


Unexpected Yet Critical Factors

by taegyungie



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Detectives, M/M, Mature content - please read the notes for more details, Multi, Mystery, Slow Burn, relatively accurate depictions of how police services are run, some violence if you squint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-23
Updated: 2020-01-23
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:00:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 33,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22371445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taegyungie/pseuds/taegyungie
Summary: When Detective Byun Baekhyun is transferred from his cozy precinct to another, he's overwhelmed by his task to solve what could only be described as an impossible case. If it weren't for his partner, Jongdae, and his Sergeant, Minseok, he thinks he'd never survive a case this important.
Relationships: Byun Baekhyun/Kim Jongdae | Chen, Byun Baekhyun/Kim Jongdae | Chen/Kim Minseok | Xiumin, Byun Baekhyun/Kim Minseok | Xiumin, Kim Jongdae | Chen/Kim Minseok | Xiumin
Comments: 20
Kudos: 183
Collections: Unrestricted Love Poly Fic Fest





	Unexpected Yet Critical Factors

**Author's Note:**

> ***WARNINGS***  
> This fic does take place in a law enforcement/criminal investigations environment, therefore there will be brief discussions and references to some heavy topics like human trafficking, etc.
> 
> There is some slight gun violence in this fic - not to spoil anything but no one gets shot or anything. I just know the presence of guns makes a lot of people uncomfortable so I just want to put this out there beforehand.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do use idols' names for the names of what are somewhat the villains of this story. Just know I am a fan of both of those names I use. I just wanted to use those names for the name itself. You'll see what I mean when you get there.
> 
> Anyway, that's enough rambling from me! Enjoy! And don't forget to thank the mods for putting this whole thing together :)

The apartment is in shambles, clothes and DVD cases and towels all scattered about the floor, as Baekhyun tears each box apart item by item. He curses under his breath, knowing he’s going to be late. His very first day since he got transferred, and he’s going to show up late, because he can’t find his goddamn tie. 

He hates himself, sometimes, for being so disorganized. 

But can he really be blamed? When he’s so busy with work it’s like he breathes, eats, and bathes in it. When he  _ just  _ relocated from one end of the city to the next. Can he really be blamed for the state of his living situation? He decides the answer is no. 

“Fuck!” he shouts, finally finding the god forsaken flap of red fabric. He immediately fumbles to get it tied snugly around his throat, tripping over himself as he gets his shoes on, as well. The tie is a little wrinkly, but it’ll have to do. So much for a good first impression on this entirely new staff of coworkers. 

With a sigh and a check of his watch, he grabs his keys, his gun, and his badge, and scrambles out the door. 

Luckily, thanks to the whole _ relocating  _ thing, the commute to work is merely a five minute drive before he’s pulling into the underground parking and using his badge to get through the door. If he were still in the Nowon district it would have taken him probably over an hour to get here, considering traffic, and he cringes at just the thought of it. 

Different precinct or no, it still feels remarkably like a Police Station. Everything smells vaguely of metal, the walls are plain, the floors have skid marks beyond repair, and there’s this indescribable feeling of general hopelessness in the air. Baekhyun has never felt more at home. 

“Detective Byun?” 

Baekhyun spins around and finds a pretty, smiling face looking at him expectantly. 

“Baekhyun,” he replies, reaching a hand out to shake hers. She does, and he bows his head politely. 

Her smile doesn’t falter. “I’m Choi Sooyoung, head of HR.”

“Ah.” Baekhyun falls into step with her, heading towards the elevators. She’s intimidatingly pretty, and a whole head taller than him in her heels. “So, you’re the one that runs the place, huh?”

Her smile turns into something cheeky. “I won’t tell the Chief you said that.”

Baekhyun laughs, as the elevator doors open. They step inside and Sooyoung presses the button for the first floor. 

“First floor is Records and HR. I just have some things for you to sign before I send you up to CID.”

“Of course,” Baekhyun nods, folding his hands together in front of him while they wait for the elevator to arrive at their floor. Luckily, it doesn’t take long, and they’re stepping out onto the first floor in no time. 

Sooyoung swipes her work ID against the sensor and the door beeps to let them know it’s unlocked. He follows her blindly, looking around to get a feel of the place. It smells like carpet cleaner and shredded paper.

“Down that hallway is Records and Customer Service. If you need to swear on any documents, just head down here and any of the transcribers can commission.”

Baekhyun smiles, teasingly, “You act as though I haven’t worked in a Police Station before.”

Sooyoung gestures vaguely. “Ah, I’m so used to fresh hires, don’t mind me. Come on, HR is just this way.”

She leads him into her office, neat and orderly with the morning sunshine streaming in through her wall-sized window. There’s another desk on the other side of the room, with a young man sitting at the desk but murmuring rapidly into the phone, so Baekhyun doesn’t try to interrupt. Instead, he just stands over Sooyoung’s desk as she sifts through papers for what she needs. 

“Okay, confirmations of transferral,” she says as she lays out all the paperwork. She hands Baekhyun a pen. “Sign where the X’s are.”

He leans over the desk, scribbling his sad excuse for a signature wherever X marks the spot. Sooyoung clears her throat.

“So, you excited for this case?”

Baekhyun glances up before looking back down at where he’s signing. “I don’t know anything about it. Just that you guys needed me and next thing I knew the Service already picked out a place for me to live.”

The corner of Sooyoung’s mouth tips up. “I don’t know much about it either,” she says, as Baekhyun signs on the last line and she collects the papers together in a neat stack. “All I’ve been told is that it’s big, and we needed Seoul’s king of Missing Persons Located reports to do the job.”

“Is that what they’re calling me these days?”

“Head of HR, Baekhyun. I know everyone’s reputations.”

Baekhyun tries to think of a retort, but he’s at a total loss. He hasn’t time to think of one anyway, as Sooyoung is tossing the papers into a manila folder and standing up from her seat.

“Let’s head up to CID, why don’t we?”

Together they walk back to the elevator. Baekhyun is a little surprised to see no other employees wandering around, but he figures most of the people in Records are on the platoon schedules, and deep into their work by now. That is, if this precinct runs anything like the one back in Nowon. 

Sooyoung’s heels click against the tile floors as they step into the elevator once more.

“Second floor is Uniform, BEAR, Traffic. Third is the gym and change rooms. Fourth is where we’re going,” she explains, as she presses the button for the fourth floor.

“Non-Uniform’s up there.”

“Yep! And then fifth is where the Chief is, sixth is IT and Dispatch, you know the drill.”

The door dings as it opens, and he follows Sooyoung through the halls. They pass a door that says  _ Forensic Identification  _ on the frosted glass window, one that says  _ Interview Room,  _ and finally, they reach  _ Criminal Investigations Division.  _ Sooyoung swipes her card up against the sensor and pushes the door open, excited smile on her face as she guides Baekhyun inside.

It isn’t anything special. There are desks, there are bulletin boards and chalkboards and white boards. There are a couple of closed off offices, that are really mostly just glass window, anyway. Men and women crowd around the desks and the boards, all in business wear with a badge on their hip or hanging from their neck. Baekhyun smells coffee. That coffee smells  _ good.  _

“Where’s Kim?” Sooyoung asks aloud.

“Right here,” says a tiny woman in a white button-up, hunched over some paperwork. She doesn’t even look up.

Sooyoung rolls her eyes. “Not you, Taeyeon,” she says. “Minseok.”

Taeyeon looks up then, smiling at Sooyoung before curious eyes fall on Baekhyun. She cocks an eyebrow, assessing Baekhyun and his wrinkly tie and clear discomfort at just… being somewhere  _ new.  _ He can’t lie about feeling a bit nervous under her studious gaze. A Detective if he ever did see one. 

“Minseok is in his office with Prince Charming,” Taeyeon finally says. “Welcome to Seocho, Byun.”

Baekhyun startles a bit at the use of his name. Did  _ everyone  _ know he was coming? “Thanks, Kim.”

She winks at him before turning back to whatever she had been reading. Baekhyun stumbles over himself a bit trying to catch up to Sooyoung, who had begun walking onward without him. They pass a couple of the little offices, where more Officers are sitting or standing and talking or working. They’re almost at the far end of the giant work area before Sooyoung is knocking on the doorframe of a wide open door.

“Detective Sergeant Kim,” she says. “I have your new recruit.”

There’s a man seated behind the desk, comfortable and powerful in his chair, and another with his back to the door, leaning against the desk, right next to where the other one sits. They both stop talking mid-sentence, turning to look over at them at the same time, and Baekhyun feels oddly intimidated, for being in a place he should feel so at home in. 

The one in the chair speaks first. “You’re late.”

He’s small, Baekhyun notices. And pretty. Delicate features and piercing eyes, a crooked mouth. But he reeks of this powerful energy that makes Baekhyun’s palms sweat, like he demands respect by simply being, and Baekhyun understands why someone who looks so young can already be a Sergeant. 

Sooyoung waves her hand in the air, completely casual, as if Detective Sergeant Kim isn’t the least bit intimidating. “Yeah, yeah, I had some paperwork for him to sign. Don’t be too hard on him, now, Minseok, you’re not fooling anyone.”

_ He’s not?  _ Baekhyun thinks.

“Hi Sooyoung,” the other Officer says, curly smile digging into sharp cheeks. 

“Hello, Jongdae,” Sooyoung drones back, clearly accustomed to that mischievous, attractive, blindingly white grin. “Baekhyun, these are Kim Minseok and Kim Jongdae. Minseok will be the Sergeant supervising your case and Jongdae’s your partner from here on out.” She puts a hand on Baekhyun’s shoulder. “Good luck, and I mean it.”

“You sure know how to make a guy feel hopeful.”

Sooyoung laughs. “I’m only teasing. Mostly. I’ll leave you boys to it!”

“Thanks!” Baekhyun calls after her as she saunters off. She waves over her shoulder at him as her heels clack on as she goes. She says something to Taeyeon before leaving, and Baekhyun realizes he’s been just  _ watching  _ her leave, and he could see how that would appear really creepy if he didn’t know it was because he’s become just a little too nervous to step inside this office and dive headfirst into a case he knows nothing about. 

All Baekhyun knows, is that if the Seoul Police Department is willing to pluck Baekhyun out of his comfortable little precinct, pay for moving expenses, and relocate him all in a week - it’s gotta be something pretty fucking big. 

“Come in,” Minseok says, the words Baekhyun was dreading to hear. “It’s time to brief you two on this case.”

Baekhyun nods, stepping in through the threshold, and nearly bumps right into Minseok, who had rounded his desk and made his way over to Baekhyun without even realizing. He holds a hand out, and Baekhyun takes it, shaking it firmly, oddly desperate to make a lasting first impression on the man in front of him. 

His goddamn wrinkly tie. 

“Welcome to the precinct, Detective Byun. I’m excited to work with you.”

“Just Baekhyun is fine.”

That crooked mouth stretches into an even more crooked smile. “Baekhyun, then.”

Minseok steps away, then, to set up a projector screen against the window-wall across from his desk, closing the blinds and shutting off the lights. Baekhyun heads to the desk to lean up against the front, and the other Officer, Jongdae, rounds the desk to join him. 

He shakes Baekhyun’s hand, too. “Good to meet you, partner.”

Baekhyun smiles. “Sure hope you’re good. I don’t think we’ll be graded individually.”

Something cheeky passes over Jongdae’s face, before falling back into that easy, comfortable confidence his face seems to be permanently settled on. “Oh, but you will be. All eyes are on you, Byun.” He turns to face the projector, arms folded over his chest. “Not every day you get SPD royalty showing up at your precinct’s door.”

Baekhyun snorts. “I’m hardly royalty.” He thinks about his wrinkly tie and his shoebox apartment full of yet-to-unpack boxes. 

“Six years with the Service and you’ve solved more Missing Persons cases than some of our senior staff,” Minseok cuts in. “There’s a reason they sent you here, Detective.”

_ Baekhyun,  _ he almost wants to say, but stops himself. 

“Don’t worry,” Jongdae says. “Even if you fuck up, at least you’ll have your looks to fall back on.”

That makes Baekhyun snort, turning to cock an eyebrow at Jongdae. Jongdae only shrugs, that stupid, curly grin still splitting his face in two. Seriously, does the man ever stop smiling?

“Jongdae, you’re scaring away the new kid,” Minseok says, as he powers up the projector and his computer screen expands to the size of the projector screen. “Now, focus, we got shit to do.”

“Right, work, that’s what we’re here for,” Jongdae drones, his syllables lilting up playfully. Baekhyun narrows his eyes. He’s not sure what it’s going to be like, working with him… besides interesting, perhaps. Definitely interesting.

A picture of a girl comes up on the screen, distracting Baekhyun from coming up with some snarky comment. The girl in the picture is smiling, not a mugshot, and her features are so perfect she’s almost frustrating to look at. Baekhyun’s stomach drops.

“She familiar to either of you?” Minseok asks from where he sits at his desk.

“Bae Joohyun,” Jongdae says, lowly, clearly just as dumbfounded as Baekhyun. 

“How have you kept this quiet?” Baekhyun asks. 

Bae Joohyun, only child of Governor Bae. Bae Joohyun, thrusted into the socialite limelight. You can’t be wealthy and beautiful and from a prominent family without the paparazzi noticing. And you certainly can’t go  _ missing _ without the paparazzi noticing.

“We’ve paid Dispatch handsomely to keep quiet.”

Baekhyun wonders if that cost more than relocating him to a new apartment. 

“A little over a week ago her housekeeping staff called us and said she was nowhere to be found. Uniform Officers went to check out the condo and saw no signs of any Break and Enter.”

“Runaway then?” Baekhyun asks.

Minseok brings up a couple pictures taken of the scene. Perfectly made bed, everything tidy. A beautiful, modern, penthouse suite, without a single thing out of place. 

“Unless she didn’t take anything with her,” Jongdae says.

Minseok hums in agreement. “Her housekeeping staff took inventory of her closet. She didn’t even take any shoes. The only thing missing is the pair of pajamas she wore to bed when they left the night before.”

“I’ve seen a lot of cases like this, back up in Nowon,” Baekhyun says, arms folded tight over his chest, brows furrowed as he thinks. “Students would just disappear without a trace. There are a lot of Trafficking rings that know how to clean up a scene.”

“You think this might be Trafficking?” Jongdae says, incredulous. “Do you think they’d risk kidnapping someone so well-known just to Traffic them?”

Baekhyun shakes his head. “Yeah that’s what’s stumping me too.”

It’s quiet for a bit, as Minseok clicks through the Scene of the Crime photos. There’s a few surfaces covered in chemist gray powder, in search of fingerprints. Other than that, there isn’t much else to see, not much of evidentiary value. It all looks so unbelievably normal. 

“The incident number is SC1904628, for you guys to read up on all the reports submitted by the Uniform Officers and SOCO,” Minseok says, exiting out of the photos and turning off the projector. “It’s a closed case which means you only have two transcribers who have access to your dictations. They’re Oh Sehun and Park Sunyoung.”

“Leaving us so soon?” Jongdae teases as Minseok walks over to the projection screen to pack it up. 

“Yours isn’t the only case I’m overseeing,” he responds coolly. “Also, I’m not going anywhere, this is my office. Shoo!” 

Baekhyun and Jongdae scurry out the door as Minseok waves them out. He’s smiling as he does so, clearly amused. He points at the empty office across from Minseok’s door.

“That office has been provided to you two. This case requires privacy, as so kindly asked by the Governor, himself.”

Baekhyun and Jongdae exchange a look. Their own office. Damn.

“By kindly asked I mean he practically has the Chief in a collar and leash. And paid lots of money. Go read some reports!”

Jongdae looks over his shoulder at Minseok, even as he’s crossing over to the other office. “You’re the one that keeps talking, Serge, if you want us to stick around so bad, just say so.”

Minseok rolls his eyes. “Just get to work,” he says, before he storms down the hall and towards the open workspace. 

Jongdae turns that grin towards Baekhyun and waggles his eyebrows. “Shall we, partner?”

Baekhyun can’t suppress the little half smile that pulls at the right side of his mouth. “Our very own office.”

“Fancy, right?” Jongdae says, huge smile on his face, as he steps into the office and flicks on the lights. All the blinds have been shut, which Baekhyun figures makes sense, considering the confidentiality of this case. 

There are two desks on either side of the room, equipped with a computer each. Jongdae immediately claims the left one, plopping down in the office chair with a sigh and Baekhyun just walks over to his desk on the right. He logs into the computer with his badge number and brings up their system, searching for the incident number right away. 

Jongdae gets up from his seat and crouches over a pile of boxes in the center of the room. “You read reports and I’ll check out all the Officer notes and photos.”

Baekhyun nods. “Sounds good.”

“But first,” Jongdae says, standing up straight and brushing off his pants, “I’m getting coffee. You want?”

“God,  _ please.” _

Jongdae laughs before stepping out of the office. Baekhyun just watches him go before turning back to the task at hand, opening up the incident and clicking through some details absentmindedly. He reads all the names and badge numbers of the Officers involved, the Uniform that were dispatched, the Forensic Ident Officer who was assigned as the Scene of the Crime Officer. He cocks his head when he sees that BEAR hadn’t been sent out. Odd.

Jongdae returns with two generic mugs (obviously supplied by the Service) in hand, and places one down on Baekhyun’s desk. “I figured you liked a lot of sugar in your coffee.”

“What a fine Detective you are,” Baekhyun says as he brings the mug to his lips and takes a sip. He positively moans around his first contact of the day with caffeine, and Jongdae just watches him with an amused curl to his lips. “Fuck I love caffeine.”

“You kinda have to when you do what we do.”

“I’d say,” Baekhyun agrees. Jongdae turns around to step over to the box of paperwork and evidence. “Hey,” Baekhyun says, causing Jongdae to look at him over his shoulder. “Do you have any idea why they didn’t send BEAR out?”

Jongdae shrugs. “Maybe because there was no sign of a Break and Enter.”

Baekhyun frowns. “Yeah, but…”

Jongdae just shrugs again. He loudly places a pile of papers from the box onto the surface of his desk. “Only one way to find out.”

Baekhyun nods, taking that as his cue to shut up and do some reading. And he does exactly that, reading through each tedious report from the Uniform Officers. Every witness statement from Joohyun’s housekeeping staff that came in to work to an empty condo. The agonizingly boring report by the Forensic Ident Officer, talking about the damn  _ friction ridges _ of the fingerprints he could manage to find with the chemist gray powder. 

He spends all day like that, and Jongdae, too, hunched over physical copies of notes and photos. At one point, Baekhyun goes to the caf to pick up lunch for he and Jongdae and brings it back to their office for them to eat in silence, both diligently reading up on what they’ve missed and trying to connect some dots and form at least a  _ fragment _ of the full picture. 

Baekhyun’s eyes are so exhausted he’s afraid he might actually go blind. He squeezes them shut, rubbing them with his fists, tired of reading over this same witness statement over and over in search of what he’s missing. 

“I’m about to fucking die,” he groans aloud. “I can’t take another moment of this.”

Jongdae chuckles. “If I have to spend another two minutes trying to decipher Junmyeon’s handwriting, you’re going to have to call in an MHA on me.”

“That won’t work,” Baekhyun says, “they’ll take me to the hospital with ya.”

Jongdae laughs a little louder at that, slumping back in his seat and using his feet on the ground to twist the chair back and forth, back and forth. He sighs. “Well, at least I have a pretty good idea where to start.”

“Same,” Baekhyun says with a nod, exiting out of all the windows solely because he can’t stand to look at them a moment longer. “We’ll have to see about security surveillance in the lobby of her building, and try and get CCTV footage of the surrounding neighbourhood.”

Jongdae’s stupidly contagious grin spreads across his stupidly handsome face. “Just what I was thinking.”

“Does Joohyun not have friends?” Baekhyun says, leaning his elbows on the desk and putting his face in his hands. “Why hasn’t anyone spoken to any friends or acquaintances besides her cleaning staff?”

“Good question,” Jongdae says, standing up from his seat and stretching his arms over his head. He checks his watch and winces. “Christ, it’s already seven.”

Baekhyun groans. He gets up from his seat to start gathering up all his crap he’s spread out on the desk throughout the duration of his shift. This has been the longest day ever. 

“What do you say we go for drinks. Christen the new partnership and all,” Jongdae suggests. 

Baekhyun looks up at him, to see him looking at him expectantly, still smiling like he constantly is, but this smile is softer, more earnest. Baekhyun wants to say yes, and he almost does, but he also really needs to go home to his shower and his bed. He needs to sleep on this case and ponder on it a bit, until it’s more a task with a purpose and less a jumble of words and pixels. 

“Can we raincheck?” Baekhyun says, hating the disappointment that flashes across Jongdae’s features. “I’ll be too preoccupied thinking about the case anyway.”

“You sure?” Jongdae asks, grabbing his suit jacket from the back of his chair and putting it on. “It might help to let loose a little, you know.”

Baekhyun shakes his head. “Nah, go on without me. I’ll see you tomorrow, Detective.”

“Jongdae,” he says. “Just call me Jongdae.”

Baekhyun bites his cheek. “Yeah, okay.”

Jongdae hesitates a second, looking as though he might say more. Baekhyun just waits, standing behind his desk while Jongdae idles at the door. He rocks up onto his toes and back down, as Baekhyun just watches and waits, until finally, Jongdae says, “Sleep tight, Detective.”

_ It’s Baekhyun,  _ he wants to correct, but Jongdae is already out the door. He hears him call out, “Night, Serge!” Minseok can barely be heard mumbling some response. 

Baekhyun finishes tidying up his desk before switching off the light and closing the office door behind him. He peeks his head into the door across the hall, where he sees Minseok sitting at his desk, elbow on the armrest of his chair and hand over his mouth as he concentrates. The light in his office is off, and the computer lights up his face with this blue-ish white hue.

“Good night, Sergeant,” Baekhyun says, and smiles when he sees Minseok startle.

That crooked smile again. “Night, Byun. Don’t stress too much now. Try and get some actual rest.”

Baekhyun squints, wondering just how much Minseok knows about him just by studying him in their few interactions. Still, Baekhyun just nods. 

“I could say the same to you.”

Minseok’s smile softens. He glances back at his computer. “Ten minutes, I promise.”

“Alright,” Baekhyun says. “Not like I have much power to tell you what to do, anyway.”

Minseok’s smile gets a little wider. “Exactly. I’ll see you tomorrow, Detective.”

Baekhyun lingers a moment, watching images on the screen scroll by in the reflection in Minseok’s eyes. The light shifts in vibrancy just vaguely as he clicks through windows, and Baekhyun finds himself pausing before nodding and turning away. He’s tired, he figures. A long day of just reading over reports and melting his brain into mush. His bed calls for him.

And soon, he’s there, barely getting out of his suit before plopping down onto his mattress, still just on the floor, shoved into the far corner of his bedroom. His bed frame is there, in its box, just a few steps away. But why would Baekhyun bother putting it together when he can just collapse right here and let sleep consume him? Who knows how long this case is going to take, how  _ much  _ it’s going to take. 

He’ll take as much sleep as he can get, while it’s still there for him to take. 

\-----

Baekhyun is just as rushed and disorganized fumbling his way to work the next morning, but at least today he knows where he’s going. He heads straight for the elevators, slinging his messenger bag up higher on his shoulder, fiddling with his badge on his hip as he waits for the doors to open. 

When he gets up to CID, he heads straight to the little kitchenette in the corner of the work area to pour himself a cup of coffee.

“Morning, Detective,” lilts a familiar, clear voice. Baekhyun looks over his shoulder to see Jongdae approaching, today without a suit jacket and the sleeves of his blue button-up rolled up to his elbows. Baekhyun envies him. He didn’t take into consideration this late-August heat. 

“Morning.” He finishes pouring his coffee and grabs another mug from the cupboard. “Coffee?”

“Mmm,” Jongdae agrees, turning to lean back against the counter, next to Baekhyun. He watches Baekhyun pour the second cup. “Here’s a true test of your Detective skills. I guessed how you take yours.”

He’s looking at Baekhyun with that seemingly permanent amusement of his. Like everything is a game and he’s always winning. Baekhyun can’t help but smile back at the mirth in his eyes.

Baekhyun reaches for the cream. “You drink regular.”

He gets a loud smack on the back and a guffaw from Jongdae. “You and I are gonna make one hell of a team, Byun.”

Baekhyun just smiles back. 

“Look at you boys, already best friends,” says Taeyeon, squeezing herself between them to reach for a mug. “How are you liking it here, Byun?”

Baekhyun shrugs, taking a sip of his coffee and trying not to moan around it. “I haven’t experienced much of it besides reading reports.”

“And me!” Jongdae beams. 

“And you,” Baekhyun says with a smile. 

“How’s the case going, Tae?” Jongdae changes the subject, still leaning casually against the counter and nursing his mug in his hands. “They still got you chasing them in circles?”

“Circles, figure 8’s, fucking parallelograms. You name it.”

Baekhyun winces. “Ooh, clever crowd?”

Taeyeon fixes him with an unimpressed stare. “They managed to start up a high stakes gambling ring right under authority’s noses and still continue to beat every single person who dares to involve themselves and gamble with them,” she says, exasperated. “Yeah. A clever bunch.”

Baekhyun nods. Before he can think of anything to say, however, Jongdae is raising his mug in the air. “To solving impossible cases.”

Taeyeon rolls her eyes before turning away. “Yeah, yeah, don’t make me too curious or I’ll have to snoop out what you’re working on.” Jongdae chuckles quietly at that, giving Baekhyun a  _ look,  _ as if he thinks they’re already at a speak-with-your-eyes level. “Also, it’s 8:05.”

“Oh, shit,” Jongdae says, pushing himself off the edge of the counter, “it is isn’t it? Come on.”

Baekhyun follows as Jongdae speed-walks down the hallway. “What? Why are you running?”

“We need to be in Minseok’s office for a briefing,” Jongdae explains. “And he hates tardiness.”

They step through the door into Minseok’s office, and Minseok looks up from where he’s bent over his desk, reading something. He cocks an eyebrow at them, unimpressed, hands braced on the surface of his desk. 

“Jongdae,” he scolds. 

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Jongdae says, waving his hand dismissively. He and Baekhyun step further into the office. “We were chatting with Taeyeon. You gonna deny Baekhyun the opportunity to get to know his new coworkers?”

Minseok rolls his eyes, fighting the smile on his face as he walks past them to shut the door. He waves a hand over his shoulder. “Enough, enough,” he shakes his head, small smile on his crooked mouth. Jongdae, who looked as though he were about to spew more excuses, snaps his mouth shut. Baekhyun gets the feeling it really doesn’t take much to make Minseok forgive and forget. 

“How was yesterday?” Minseok asks, plopping back down in his desk chair. 

“Long,” Baekhyun can’t help but respond. He follows suit with Jongdae and takes a seat in one of the chairs that Minseok had put in front of his desk. 

Minseok laughs at that. “I’m sure it was. Do we have any leads?”

Jongdae shrugs. “It’s a lot of nothing, really,” he says, and Baekhyun nods. “She’s just gone and that’s it. We want to check for surveillance video in her building’s lobby, though.”

Minseok nods, furrow in his brow and elbows on his desk. “That’s a start. Should I ask the Staff Sergeant to send out Uniform Officers to go?”

Jongdae and Baekhyun exchange a look. 

“No,” Jongdae says, reading Baekhyun’s mind. “We can go. We want to keep this case as much between just the three of us as possible, anyway.”

Another serious, thoughtful nod from Minseok. “Good, good. I’ll call down to Equipment and have them prepare a cruiser for you.”

“First, though,” Baekhyun speaks up, making both Jongdae and Minseok turn to look at him, “I want to speak with the dispatched Officers… Kim and Kang?”

Jongdae nods enthusiastically. “Yeah, their platoon is working today, I’ll take you down to meet them.”

Minseok hums. “Why do you want to speak with them?”

“A report isn’t going to tell me the feeling they got from everyone,” Baekhyun says. “A report won’t tell me all the little nuances of their conversations or the scene.”

“Fine,” Minseok says, leaning back in his chair. “That’s fair enough.”

“I’d like to speak with the FIS, too,” Baekhyun says. “There isn’t a report on the results of his fingerprint analyses, yet.”

A wicked grin spreads across Jongdae’s face. “Oh, you’re gonna  _ love _ him.”

Baekhyun’s a little terrified about what that means. No time to question it, though, especially as Minseok is rolling his eyes and laughing quietly at Jongdae’s statement. Jongdae preens, glowing approximately the wattage if the sun. 

“Okay, okay. Good,” Minseok says, nodding resolutely. He grabs a pen and a stack of sticky notes, starts scribbling things down. “Go, talk to everyone, gather as much intel as possible. A cruiser will be ready for you at 1300 hours, how's that sound?”

Baekhyun and Jongdae both nod as they climb out of their seats. 

“Perfect, Minseok,” Jongdae says. Minseok raises an eyebrow at him. “Sergeant,” he corrects. “Thanks.”

As they shuffle out of Minseok’s office and into their own, Baekhyun looks incredulously over at Jongdae. “Why do you push your luck and call him Minseok when he’s just gonna give you shit for not calling him Sergeant?”

Jongdae winks at him. “Doesn’t take much detective work to figure that one out,” he says as he settles in his desk chair to log onto his computer. “I like bugging him.”

Baekhyun chuckles. “Okay, fair.”

“Don’t let his tough guy act fool you,” Jongdae says, clicking at his keyboard and staring at what’s most likely his emails. “He’s the biggest softie ever.”

Baekhyun smirks. “Doesn’t take much detective work to figure that one out.”

Jongdae gapes at him a little, total amusement decorating his features. He laughs, clear and melodic. “He’s clever! He makes jokes!”

Baekhyun rolls his eyes. “Yeah, I’m hilarious, actually. Get used to it.”

Jongdae puts his hands up in defence, or dismissal, Baekhyun can’t tell which. “Consider me used to it.” He sighs then, sneers at his screen like it’s grown three heads. Baekhyun knows the feeling. After a day like yesterday, sitting at a computer is the  _ last  _ thing either of them want to do.

“Take me down to the second floor?” Baekhyun asks.

Jongdae nods. “Hold on,” he says, picking up his phone and tucking it between his ear and his shoulder. He punches a couple numbers and waits. “Hey, it’s Kim Jongdae. Yeah, just wondering if Junmyeon and Seulgi are on the road right now.”

There’s a pause. Baekhyun waits.

“They’re in the building? Sick. Thanks!” and then he’s hanging up and smiling at Baekhyun. “Let’s go!”

Jongdae goes and Baekhyun follows. The walk through CID, to the elevator, and down two floors is quiet. Baekhyun’s too busy thinking about the case, about what little they know right now and what they might learn. What could possibly be missing that could provide some answers. 

They arrive on the second floor. They pass an interview room, a line-up room, and eventually reach a writing room. Jongdae doesn’t even knock before he’s barging in.

A few Officers all spin in their seats to face them at the door. There’s a couple of them on their phones, notebooks in hand, clearly dictating their reports, as they turn back to what they were doing without providing them with much more than a second glance. 

“Junmyeon,” Jongdae says, stalking over to a desk where there’s a female Officer sitting down and a male Officer leaned up against the desk, talking to her. He looks up, at Jongdae’s voice, and smiles sweetly in greeting. Baekhyun stumbles along behind him. 

“Hey,” the man says, Junmyeon, Baekhyun presumes. “How are you?”

“I’m good,” Jongdae says, then turns his blinding smile towards the woman in the chair. “I’m glad you two are together, you’re just the people we wanted to speak to.”

“Oh, really,” she deadpans.

“Guys, this is Detective Byun Baekhyun.” He turns to slap Baekhyun on the shoulder and pull him in a little closer. “Baekhyun, this is Constables Kim Junmyeon and Kang Seulgi.”

Baekhyun nods, then turns to smile at them. “Nice to meet you,” he says.

“Likewise,” returns Junmyeon. 

“So why did you want to talk?” Seulgi says, reaching her arms behind her head and leaning back. Her and Junmyeon are in short sleeves, which Baekhyun will always find funny. With all the equipment and padding strapped to them, no short sleeves could ever brace them for the late August heat. 

“We’ve been assigned the Bae case,” Jongdae says, his voice startlingly lower than his usual octave. Seulgi and Junmyeon both nod in understanding. 

“We wanted to talk to you two,” Baekhyun says. “We read your reports but… still. We want to know every little thing.”

“What do you want to know?” Seulgi asks.

Jongdae shrugs. “What kind of impression you got, what your instincts tell you about the place.”

Both Junmyeon and Seulgi nod, thinking. Baekhyun adds, “What did the housekeepers you spoke to seem like?”

At that, Junmyeon and Seulgi both exchange a look. Baekhyun furrows his brow, ready to retain whatever they could possibly share. Completely intrigued. 

Seulgi speaks first. “The workers were… weird.” Junmyeon nods in agreement. “They spoke in confused circles, always missing big chunks of information.”

“For people who see Joohyun every day,” Junmyeon cuts in, “They know absolutely nothing about her.”

“Or they know too much about her,” Seulgi says.

Jongdae nods solemnly, absorbing the information. “And are keeping it all a secret.”

“Interesting,” Baekhyun says. “So speaking to the staff some more is another lead for us to take.”

“It could be that they know nothing,” Junmyeon says, “or it could be all the information you’ll need.”

“Awesome,” Jongdae says, pulling his notepad out of his breast pocket and scribbling something down. “Thanks, guys.”

“Anything odd about the place?” Baekhyun asks. “I know it was extremely tidy and stuff, but did anything seem off to you?”

“It was so clean it was like no one ever lived in it,” Seulgi says. “But I guess when you have housekeepers there every day it tends to be like that.”

“True,” Baekhyun says. Jongdae glances at him, nodding slightly. 

“That’s pretty much all we can tell you,” Junmyeon says. “I don’t envy you. It’s a tough case.”

“And I’m sure you’ll be under a lot of scrutiny,” Seulgi says.

Jongdae shrugs. “Minseok’s supervising-”

“Oh,” Seulgi waves her hand dismissively, smiling a little. “Well in that case, you can get away with anything, Jongdae.”

Jongdae grins. 

Baekhyun fiddles with the tie at his throat as they walk back to the elevators. He’s painfully hot, as if the air conditioning in the precinct just decided not to work today, let alone that he hasn’t felt comfortable in a suit ever since he was promoted from Constable to Detective. Jongdae is humming as he looks at his notebook, the back of his pen shoved between his lips as he frowns in thought. 

“It’s possible they know nothing,” Jongdae says, out of nowhere. Baekhyun presses the button for the elevator. “And if they know nothing, Joohyun is just really fucking good at keeping secrets.”

Baekhyun hums. “Which would mean she has a lot to hide.”

Jongdae frowns. “Do you think she’s had someone after her? Something she wouldn’t want to report to anyone?”

“It seems unlikely,” Baekhyun says, pressing the button for the fourth floor. “If she had a stalker, or something, surely she would have told someone about it.”

“Yeah, it’s…” Jongdae says, pausing pensively, “it’s just not adding up.”

“It will,” Baekhyun says, as if he could possibly know such a thing.

“Whatever,” Jongdae says with a sigh. “I’m taking you to meet Kyungsoo now.”

“The FIS?”

“Yep!”

They step off the elevator, making their way down the hall. Jongdae pushes open the door that reads  _ Forensic Identification  _ and Baekhyun follows. They stalk past a few desks and machines, microscopes, all that jazz, until Baekhyun is certain Jongdae is leading him towards this tiny man at one of the work stations, frowning through his thick, black frames at the blood-soaked t-shirt he’s examining under a white light. 

His shoulders, slim and hunched over as he focuses on his work, startle upwards as Jongdae shouts, “Kyungsoo!”

Kyungsoo looks up from the t-shirt in his hands to frown at them, instead. “Jongdae,” he says, hesitantly. 

“How are you, my friend?”

Kyungsoo’s frown somehow deepens. Baekhyun is honestly amused by the fluffiness of his eyebrows, and how they knit closer together the longer he looks at Jongdae. “Busy.”

“Good!” Jongdae says, acting as though he didn’t hear his answer. “This is Detective Byun Baekh-”

“I know,” Kyungsoo interrupts. He turns to Baekhyun then. “It’s nice to meet you.”

Baekhyun nods. “You, too.”

“What do you need?” Kyungsoo asks, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. 

“The prints you took from Bae Joohyun’s,” Jongdae says, “tell us about them.”

Kyungsoo sighs. “Minimal, at best.” 

“Have the results come in yet?” Baekhyun asks. “Have you compared them to a sample print yet?”

“Hold on,” Kyungsoo says, walking over to the far end of the table where a computer sits. He taps away at the keyboard, clicks a couple of times. “I took a sample print from Joohyun’s toothbrush,” he says. “I compared the friction ridges against their matrixes with the other prints I collected yesterday evening.”

“And the verdict?” Baekhyun asks. 

“They’re all Joohyun,” Kyungsoo says, shrugging at them sympathetically. “I’ll be dictating a report sometime today on it.”

“Damn,” Baekhyun says, jutting his lips out in concentration. “There goes one possible lead.”

“The scene was squeaky clean,” Kyungsoo says, tapping his index finger against the tabletop. “Suspiciously so.”

“Just to make our lives harder,” Jongdae says with a dramatic sigh. “You sure you went deep enough into the matrix on those prints?”

Kyungsoo’s eyes narrow. “Don’t try to be funny, Jongdae. It doesn’t work for you.”

Baekhyun can’t hold back his surprised laugh at that. “You were right,” he says to Jongdae, “I do love him.”

Kyungsoo offers Baekhyun a delighted, heart-shaped smile. 

“Not my fault your Forensic mumbo jumbo will never make any sense,” Jongdae says, grabbing Baekhyun’s elbow, hands hot through Baekhyun’s shirt. “We’re out of here. Bye, Kyungsoo.”

“Detectives,” Kyungsoo says curtly, picking up the bloody t-shirt once more. 

Jongdae doesn’t let go of Baekhyun’s arm as they walk through Forensics, back to CID. Baekhyun finds no room for complaint. 

\-----

“Oh my  _ god!”  _ Baekhyun all but moans around his… fifth bite. “I cant believe how good this pizza is.” He takes another bite. “Ughhh!”

Jongdae laughs, from where he’s seated in the driver’s seat of the cruiser. “I told you, it’s the best.”

“And this is from a  _ street vendor?” _ Baekhyun asks, mouthful of food. Jongdae just winces at him before turning away with an amused smile.

“I can’t believe you’re a cop who doesn’t know that street vendors have the  _ best  _ food.” He moves into the left-turning lane.

Baekhyun shakes his head. “I come from the education district. It’s all about the cafes, up there.”

Jongdae nods. “Fair enough.”

It’s a sunny afternoon, and the AC is blasting so hard Baekhyun can feel his blood turning to ice in his veins. It’s ideal, on a day as hot as this, fully dressed in a suit. He’s happy to get out of the precinct, see a little more if his new neck of the woods, besides his apartment and his office. 

There’s murmuring on the radio, someone on patrol talking to Comm about some warrant. Baekhyun’s tuned them out, happy to just watch the buildings and cars and people pass by through his window as he eats his lunch. Jongdae’s driving with one hand, the other holding his slice of pizza that’s he’s folded in half. Baekhyun decides he likes today. It’s certainly far more interesting than his long day of reading, yesterday. 

Not long after he and Jongdae have finished eating, they’re pulling up in front of a lavish, heinously expensive building. It’s grand, in height and style, a ridiculous expanse of glass windows, reflecting the afternoon sunlight as if winking at the world below it, teasing everyone else for not being wealthy, important enough to live in a place like this. Baekhyun whistles as he climbs out of the cruiser. 

“Nice place,” Jongdae says.

“I’ll say.”

They step through the automatic doors, out of the sweltering heat and into a lobby even more luxurious than it seemed from the outside. The temperature is perfect, the ceiling is just ridiculously high, complete with an extravagant crystal chandelier. Baekhyun fights the urge to roll his eyes at the showiness of the place. 

There’s a desk, to the right. There’s a security guard seated behind it, in front of the gigantic painting hanging from the wall. Without so much more than a glance, Jongdae and Baekhyun approach the counter. The security guard looks up from his phone, eyes wide.

“H-hi,” he stammers out, and Baekhyun can’t help but take note of how young he is. “Can I help you?”

Baekhyun gestures to the badge on his hip. The kids eyes widen even further. “Detective Byun, this is my partner, Detective Kim.”

The kid bows politely. “Yes, nice to meet you. I’m Minhyung.”

“Nice to meet you, Minhyung,” Baekhyun says. “I’m sure you have an idea as to why we’re here.”

“Ah, is this about Joohyun?” He asks, voice quiet. Baekhyun nods. “Did you need me to let you guys in, upstairs? I can do that, if you want.”

Jongdae glances over at Baekhyun. “Maybe, if we have time, later. We’re wondering if you have any surveillance footage of the lobby the night she disappeared.”

Minhyung nods, enthusiastic. “Yeah, yeah, I can try to bring that up for you, follow me.”

He gets up from his seat, and Baekhyun and Jongdae follow him to a door behind the desk. Minhyung fumbles with his key ring, for a moment, before finding the right one and opening the door.

It’s a surveillance room, all dark and only illuminated by all the television screens, watching every hallway on every floor, the lobby, the maintenance room. Minhyung plops down in the seat, beginning to flip through a file folder. 

“You’ll have to forgive me, I’m pretty new around here,” he says. “Still not totally sure of my way around the place.”

“No, th-that’s fine,” Baekhyun says with a frown, thinking. He wonders just how long Minhyung has been working here.

“Here we go, the 18th,” Minhyung says. He presses a few keys. “This should bring up all the footage from that night. Hope you guys have a few hours to spare.”

Jongdae hums. “We sure do. You can head back out to your desk, Minhyung, we’ll call for you if we need any help.”

Minhyung nods, just as eager as every other nod before. “Yeah, totally,” he says, fumbling to get out of his seat. “I’ll get out of your hair.”

Just before Minhyung leaves the room, he seems to remember something. “Oh!” he announces, pointing to a couple of buttons. “Pause, rewind, and fast-forward. Okay, I’m going now.”

He closes the door behind him, and Baekhyun releases a breath. He pulls out a folding chair that was tucked into the corner of the tiny room, as Jongdae settles himself down in the chair Minhyung had been occupying. “God, I hope this gives us something to work with.”

Jongdae knocks on the wooden surface of the desk. “I’m with you on that.”

They fast forward, until the time stamp on the corner of each screen reads 2100 hours, the time that Joohyun’s cleaning staff was supposed to have left for the evening. Baekhyun watches, intently, at each screen. He quickly figures out which hallway is Joohyun’s, when three women in cleaning uniforms depart from what can only be presumed as Joohyun’s condo, shuffling out and talking amongst each other with smiles on their faces. It doesn’t look out of the ordinary, at all. Baekhyun narrows his eyes.

He watches them go down the hall, and then again, a few minutes later, come off the elevator into the lobby. Jongdae is tapping his fingertips against the desk, impatient. Baekhyun sighs. They’re going to have a long afternoon ahead of them of watching these fucking screens. Just when he thought he’d escaped the woes of yesterday.

“I don’t understand why one person needs three cleaning ladies,” Jongdae huffs, leaning back in his seat with his hands behind his head. Baekhyun snorts. “Like, how much of a mess can one girl make, you know?”

“The wealthy are a different breed of human,” Baekhyun says. Jongdae releases a laugh, loud and clear in the tiny closet they’ve crammed themselves into. Baekhyun sighs. “That poor kid-”

“Minhyung?”

“Yeah, is he just terrified of everything, or are we that intimidating?”

Jongdae snorts. “Well,  _ I’m  _ intimidating. You, however-”

Baekhyun rolls his eyes, slapping Jongdae in the chest. “You’re not intimidating, you’re just terrifying.”

Jongdae’s mouth opens wide in mock offence. “In what way could I  _ possibly  _ be terrifying?”

Baekhyun bites his lip to keep himself from smiling too wide, unable to stop himself from bickering with Jongdae like this. He makes it too easy, and his inability to let Baekhyun have the last word just keeps it going. “You  _ do  _ own a mirror, right?”

“Lies!” Jongdae shrieks. Baekhyun cackles. Surely, Minhyung can hear them through the door. “I’m handsome, and you know it.”

Baekhyun only laughs even harder. He doesn’t know how to tell Jongdae that that’s  _ exactly why  _ he’s terrifying.

“Admit it!” Jongdae whines, sounding like a petulant little toddler.

Baekhyun snorts. “Fine, you’re so handsome, Jongdae.”

Jongdae’s expression melts from pouty child to smug asshole in record time. “I know.”

With a sigh, Baekhyun settles back into his seat, putting his full attention back on the screens. Jongdae follows suit, and they both resign to their fate of watching empty corridors. 

At one point, Jongdae calls Minseok on the phone, putting him on speaker. Minseok sounds less than impressed to be called in the middle of his afternoon, but he doesn’t hang up. Baekhyun’s mouth won’t come down from its smile at the thought.

“If we have to sit here and die of boredom, you do too,” Jongdae offers as an explanation.

Minseok makes a sound, like he’s struggling to form a coherent argument. “Jongdae, you’re a  _ Detective,  _ this is literally what you’ve been doing your entire career-”

“Still!” is Jongdae’s less-than-eloquent retort.

“Please just amuse him, Sergeant,” Baekhyun speaks up. “That way I don’t have to deal with him alone.”

He hears Minseok laughing on the other end of the line. “I like you, Byun.” There’s the rustling of papers, and Minseok speaks again, “I really do have to go, though. I have a meeting in a few minutes.”

“Fine, leave us to die,” Jongdae says, and hangs up the phone without another word. Baekhyun can’t help but laugh, shaking his head. If he’d talked to his Sergeant back at his old precinct like that, he’d get a letter of warning and a week of other Officers’ paperwork. 

Time would begin to just blur together out of boredom, if it weren’t for the time stamps on screen, ticking linearly, reminding Baekhyun of just how long he’s been sitting here. He and Jongdae watch, as absolutely nothing happens, as the time stamps tick from 2313 hours, to 2314 hours, to 2315 hours…

Then, to 0030 hours?

“Uhh,” Baekhyun so eloquently says.

“Wait, what the fuck?” Jongdae says with a frown, shooting up in his seat to start fiddling with the buttons. He rewinds, and again, it just cuts back to 2315 hours in less than a second.

“How did it just lose over an hour?” Baekhyun asks, as if Jongdae has an answer. His partner just gapes at him, clearly as lost as he is. Baekhyun climbs out of his chair, cracking the door open. The light assaults his eyes. “Uh… Minhyung?”

The security guard whips his head around, eyes wide and panicked as always. “Yeah?”

“We need a hand.”

Minhyung practically trips over his chair in his quest to join Baekhyun at the door. “Sure!”

Jongdae shows Minhyung the footage, the way it cuts an hour and fifteen minutes out, just leaping into the next day, like the snap of a finger. Minhyung gawks at it for a moment, before taking his seat and fiddling around with some buttons, sifting through some files, on the hunt for the missing footage.

There’s nothing.

“That’s so weird,” Minhyung says. “I’m sorry. I mean, like I said, I’m still new, there could be something I’m not thinking of.”

Baekhyun furrows his brow. “When did you start working here, Minhyung?”

A few blinks, and Minhyung replies, “The 19th.”

It’s silent in the room for a second.

Jongdae says, “You started this job literally the  _ day after  _ Joohyun went missing?”

“I- yeah?”

Baekhyun and Jongdae exchange a look. Baekhyun is a little freaked out by how well they already know how each other is thinking. “Seems pretty deliberate to me.”

“W-what do you mean?”

Jongdae answers, “We doubt it’s a coincidence Joohyun disappears the day they’re expecting new security.” Minhyung blinks between the two of them, before his mouth drops into a surprised little  _ O.  _ “Do you know why the guard before you left?”

Minhyung shakes his head. “No, he… he barely even stayed around long enough to train me, let alone tell me where he was going. I showed up, he showed me around the surveillance room, and he bolted.”

Another glance between Baekhyun and Jongdae, heavy with a thousand unsaid words.

Baekhyun says, resolutely, “We’re gonna need you to bring up his information.”

\-----

Baekhyun begins to sleep less and less every night.

He rolls around on his mattress, still just sitting sadly on his floor, and thinks about everything he doesn’t know about this case. He thinks about the missing footage, what could have  _ possibly  _ been erased.  _ How  _ had it been erased?  _ Who  _ erased it? There is so much plaguing him, swimming around violently in his sorry head, making him feel anxious and confused.

It doesn’t help that their attempts to get ahold of the old security guard, the one who Minhyung replaced, all provided negative results. Every number had been discontinued, he no longer lived at his last known address. He’s fallen off the face of the fucking earth and now Baekhyun has just been left with more questions.

Amongst it all, though, he thinks the most about the way Jongdae’s eyebrows furrow together, the way he worries his bottom lip between his teeth, as he studies Baekhyun for long moments, sometimes. Baekhyun, who has already begun shrinking into himself more and more with each unanswered question, getting swallowed up in his questions and his trains of thought and his inability to focus on anything. 

Jongdae has noticed, and Jongdae appears a little worried about him. Baekhyun can’t get that fucking  _ look  _ out of his head.

Of all problems to have, right now.

His alarm goes off, loud and aggressive and awful, and Baekhyun just buries his face into his pillow and lets it ring with increasing fervour. He’s numb to anything, at this point. He just wants to lay here a moment longer, instead of getting dressed and having to face all of his problems.

Particularly that problem sitting at the desk across the room from Baekhyun’s, with the badge on his hip and that curly smile on his mouth.

Baekhyun groans. And he gets up.

Arriving at work is just a flurry of nothings. They touch base with Cyber, and their forensic work on the security files and computers they seized from the building show no trace of that footage being recoverable. They continue their fruitless interviews with Joohyun’s cleaning staff, who know so shockingly little about her it’s enough to have Baekhyun’s hair coming in gray. He and Jongdae toss useless theories back and forth, grasping at straws. 

So far, the most they have is her one housekeeper who said that Joohyun would always be talking quietly on the phone. And that’s the extent of it. 

It’s a little after lunch, and Jongdae is seated on Baekhyun’s desk, his knee brushing Baekhyun’s shoulder as Baekhyun spins himself back and forth in his chair. He’s taken up a habit of that, Jongdae, sitting at Baekhyun’s desk instead of his own. As if he knows that Baekhyun feels more like a  _ person  _ when someone else is close like this, especially in his current state. 

There's a stir outside the office doors. Normally, the CID is always bustling with sounds, a steady background noise of chatter and papers shuffling about. But it falls silent, silent enough that there can only be heard the voices of one or two men. With a frown, Jongdae hops off of Baekhyun’s desk to go peak outside the office doors. Whatever he sees, it makes his expression drop.

“It’s governo-”

“Where are the incompetent idiots in charge of finding my Joohyun?” Shouts a booming voice. Baekhyun’s heart startles in his chest.

He hears Minseok’s office door opening. He hears a placating, “Sir, I’m Ser-” before he’s cut off by Governor Bae pushing their office door open, just barely missing Jongdae in the process. Baekhyun is dumbstruck, stuck to his seat like it’s a part of his body.

Before him stands Governor Bae, clearly upset, seething in the threshold of his office.

Jongdae glances over at Baekhyun, and they exchange a look of confusion and bewilderment. Minseok steps into the office, squeezing himself from behind the Governor.

“Sir, I’m Sergeant Kim, the supervisor overlooking your case.”

Governor Bae shoots a nasty look at Minseok. “Care to explain why your useless detectives haven’t been able to do their jobs?”

Baekhyun sees Jongdae openly gawk. Minseok’s shoulders tense as he takes a steadying breath. “Sir, I can assure you, we’re doing the best we can.”

“Then where is she?”

Baekhyun clears his throat. All eyes turn to look at him. “I’m sure this is hard for you,” he says, trying to remain appeasing instead of condescending. “I wish we could give you more answers, but… whether Joohyun left on her own or someone took her with them… whoever it was - they certainly didn’t want to be found.”

Jongdae nods. “Every lead has come up empty, just making this maze even bigger as time goes on.” The governor blinks at the two of them, looking somewhat like he’s calmed down. Now that he looks less angry, he looks more like a desperate, heartbroken father. “We’ll keep digging, though, until we find something.”

The Governor, still frustrated despite having lost his puffy, brash exterior, runs a hand over his face with a sigh. “I just don’t get it,” he says. “She acts strange for months and then disappears, and  _ still  _ no one is good enough to find her.”

Ignoring the sting of the last comment, Baekhyun stands up from his seat to round his desk. “What was that?”

The Governor blinks at him. “What?”

“Acting strange. What do you mean she’s been acting strange?”

From the corner of his eye he sees Jongdae pulling out his notepad and pen.

“I-” the governor shrugs, huffs. “I just- I’m very close with my daughter, but, over the last five or so months she’s been acting flaky and secretive. I gave a statement to cops weeks ago, I mentioned this.”

Baekhyun and Jongdae exchange a look and a sigh. “Sometimes things get kind of lost in translation, making their way into a report,” Baekhyun explains. 

“Governor Bae, if you have free time, it would be great if you could provide a recorded statement for us,” Jongdae says, stalking over to his desk to gather up some notes. “That would be a big help to this investigation.”

The Governor stands dumbly for a moment, thinking. Then, he nods, releasing a shaky breath. “Of course, I- anything to find my Joohyun.”

Jongdae nods, looking to Baekhyun. “You wanna scribe?”

Baekhyun doesn’t think he has it in him to actually interview anyone today. His brain is so muddled with exhaustion and stress - and a million other things. So he just nods, and follows after a grinning Jongdae as he leads the Governor down to the taped interview room. Baekhyun realizes, belatedly, that Minseok is walking alongside him. 

“I can’t miss this,” Minseok says, low enough for just Baekhyun to hear. “You’re stuck sitting with me for the next hour or so.”

Baekhyun has enough mind to quirk his lips up into a smile. “Doesn’t sound all that bad to me.”

Jongdae and Governor Bae head into the recorded interview room, while Minseok and Baekhyun file into the cramped monitoring room next door. Minseok picks up the phone on the desk, calling down to Records to have a Commissioner of Oath sent up as Jongdae goes over the preamble and signs some papers. 

A Commissioner comes up, the transcriber who’s assigned to their investigation, Sehun. Baekhyun’s met him before, lanky and quiet, but sharp in both features and mind. The Governor advises he’s swearing on the Bible, Sehun has him put his right hand on the Bible he brought up with him, the Governor swears, so help him God, and Baekhyun readies his pen over his notepad while Jongdae clears his throat. 

Jongdae is a natural, just easing into conversation about how Joohyun was as a kid, their relationship through her childhood and early teen years. Joohyun got good grades, has always been quick-witted and clever, quiet and pensive, observant. The Governor preens as he goes on and on about his smart, brilliant, beautiful daughter, and Baekhyun smiles down at his paper as he jots down scribe notes. 

The conversation takes a turn, though, when Jongdae starts to ask about Joohyun’s secretive behaviour. The Governor’s demeanor deflates, furrowing into concern as he describes how distant she became, recently. How she’s always quietly barking orders into her phone but then spinning around and gracing a phony smile when she realizes someone is behind her. 

“She used to share everything with me, you know?” The Governor says. He shakes his head. “We shared everything, my pride and joy, and I. Especially after her mother passed away, we were as close as could be.”

“I could imagine how hard it must have been,” Jongdae says, “to see your child’s behaviour change just like that. Is there  _ anything  _ you could think of that could have set her off into this spiral? Do you think she might have been in danger?”

The Governor shakes his head. “No, not danger. Not Joohyun.” He shifts in his seat, the leather of the faded, worn armchair groaning beneath him. “She’s too smart to be in danger. I- I can’t say for sure, but I don’t think my Joohyun was taken.”

Jongdae leans forward in his seat. So do Baekhyun and Minseok. “No?”

“No, Joohyun is too smart to be at the mercy of anyone,” the Governor says with a shake of his head. “If there is any threat to her, then Joohyun ran on her own.”

Jongdae hums. Baekhyun puts asterisks around everything he’s been writing the past couple minutes. Then, Jongdae says, “And you said she’s a smart one. So, we’ve got our work cut out for us.”

The Governor smiles at that, a little proud. “Yeah. You sure do.”

Minseok, next to Baekhyun, is rubbing a hand over his face thinking, his knee bouncing. Jongdae taps his pen against the surface of the table in the interview room, a steady  _ tink tink tink tink  _ that sets a surprisingly calming rhythm.

“Is there anything else?” Jongdae asks. Baekhyun looks at the clock, they’ve been talking for nearly forty-five minutes already. “Any names, any places, anything you could think of that might lead us to Joohyun?”

The Governor thinks, his brows furrowed, his frown lines deep as he concentrates. “I can’t- have you spoken to anyone? Any of Joohyun’s friends?”

Baekhyun snorts, and he sees Jongdae sink back in his seat. “We’ve figured out some of Joohyun’s associates by turning to the tabloids, but… your daughter is friends with some very prominent people. They don’t pick up their phones so easily.”

“I find that unsurprising,” the Governor says. “Her friends all hire the most useless assistants. You’ve probably left about a hundred messages by now.”

“Something like that,” Minseok mutters next to Baekhyun. 

“Oh!” the Governor exclaims, suddenly lurching forward in his seat. Baekhyun readies his pencil. “I found this odd, and you might find this interesting, too. Last week, I was talking to my accountant, he does all of my family’s finances, has been forever. He asked me, last week, what’s happened to Joohyun’s second account since she went missing.”

“Second account?” Jongdae leans his elbows on his knees.

The Governor nods. “He told me she opened a separate account, with KB bank. We bank through Shinhan, usually. He has no access to it, but he helped Joohyun take out the small amount she needed in order to open the new account. I knew nothing about it.”

“When was this?” Jongdae asks. “When she opened the account?”

The Governor shakes his head. “Oh, Christ, uh… four months ago, maybe? Something like that I think my accountant said.”

“KB, you said? We’ll look into that,” Jongdae says, sounding ever so diplomatic and professional. “Was there anything else you thought I would ask but didn’t?”

It takes a moment of contemplation, but eventually the Governor shakes his head. “No. No, I think we covered everything.”

“Great. If you think of anything, though, I’ll give you my supervisor’s business card and you can get ahold of him, yeah?”

Minseok snorts. “Give him your own, dumbass,” he mutters under his breath. Baekhyun smiles. 

The interview is concluded, and Baekhyun shuts off the recording in the room as Jongdae and the Governor shuffle out. He glances quickly over his notes, before gathering his papers together and tucking them under his arm. Minseok puts a hand on Baekhyun’s lower back as they make their way out of the cramped monitoring room together, both with tired, fuzzy eyes, swimming with new information and ideas. 

The three of them escort the Governor down to the main lobby in pensive silence. Everyone is too busy swirling with newfound knowledge and investigative paths to say anything. Baekhyun’s bottom lip starts to hurt with how hard he’s been gnawing at it. 

Amicable goodbyes and thankyous are shared. Baekhyun watched the Governor’s shoulders as he walks toward the main doors for a moment. 

“Wait!” he calls out. The Governor turns, a curious quirk to his constantly worried brow. “Let us create a media release. If the public knows that they’re supposed to be looking for Joohyun, we might get a few calls from people who have seen her.”

The Governor just stares back at Baekhyun for a long moment. It’s uncomfortable, how long he stares - thinks. It makes Baekhyun squirm a little beneath his skin. 

But then he says, “Fine. Yes. Do what you need to do.”

And before Baekhyun has the chance to thank him again, the Governor is out the door. 

“Well!” Minseok claps his hands together, gathering Jongdae and Baekhyun’s attention. “We’ve got a hell of an afternoon ahead of us.”

“I’ll say,” Jongdae huffs.

Minseok looks between the two of them, a furrow between his brows as he focusses. “Head up to your office,” he says. “Byun, you’ve got some scribe notes to dictate and Kim, get in contact with the banks, see about retrieving that client information.”

Jongdae smirks, lifting his hand in a mock salute. “Yes, sir.” Baekhyun snorts.

Minseok pays Jongdae’s attitude no mind. “I’m going to head up to the fifth floor to start applying for a media release.”

“Thank you, sir,” Baekhyun says, and he begins to take a step towards the elevator when Minseok claps a hand over his shoulder, and one over Jongdae’s.

“Good work today, Detectives,” he says, voice quiet and serious, like the look in his eye. “Finally, we have some answers.”

Baekhyun just stares back at his Sergeant, wide-eyed and oddly nervous. From this close he can see how the fluorescent lights make Minseok’s eyelashes reflect in his dark irises. He wants to say something, but Minseok has turned around and headed for the elevator before he even has a chance.

“Well,” Jongdae says with an exasperated sigh. Baekhyun turns to him to see that usual ever-present smirk and twinkle in his eye. “What do you say, partner - after all this paperwork wanna go for a celebratory drink?”

And while Baekhyun would normally refuse, normally say that there is just  _ far too much work to do,  _ he can’t help but feel as though it’s awfully well deserved. And maybe that glimmer of hope that flashes across Jongdae’s face has something to do with the way Baekhyun nods and says, quietly, “Yeah. Yeah, I’d like that.”

\-----

Baekhyun, honestly, is a little glad that he has an excuse to see a little more of this corner of the city than just his shoebox apartment and the precinct. The streets are bustling, expensive, stylish. This lounge, the bar he’s currently sat at with Jongdae, in a luxurious booth with a mahogany table between them - Baekhyun really almost went without ever experiencing it. 

Jongdae tends to do that, though. Subconsciously pull Baekhyun out of his work-flooded hole he always digs himself into. Baekhyun ponders this, pensive, as he sips on his overpriced whiskey and peers at Jongdae over the rim of his glass. 

“Serge is still refusing,” Jongdae says, frowning as he taps away at his phone screen. The white light illuminates his face, digs shadows into all his hollow spots. He rolls his eyes. “Says he’s got too much work to come out.”

Baekhyun internally winces, thinking that sounds an awful lot like himself. It took a lot of internal debate before he allowed himself to sling his suit jacket over his shoulder and follow Jongdae out to his car. He’s hoped Minseok would come, of course, but kind of expected this outcome. He sees a lot of himself in Minseok, always holed up at his desk and worried over all of the incomplete tasks filling his screen and weighing on his shoulders. Baekhyun would know that feeling better than anyone. 

He sits for a moment, listens to the clinking of glasses and the amiable chatter of the others who fill the bar. He thinks about Minseok, his senior and superior that treats he and Jongdae like equals. He thinks about Jongdae, who never expects any different from Minseok. 

Baekhyun has his suspicions. He’s a detective after all - and a damn good one, too. So, he decides to pry.

“You and the Sergeant are pretty close, huh?” Baekhyun asks, punctuating it with a nonchalant sip of his drink.

Jongdae’s eyebrows shoot up across his forehead. Expressive, those things are. “Yeah,” Jongdae says. He eyes Baekhyun, like he knows what game he’s playing. “He and I have been friends for years.”

_ Friends.  _ Right.

“You know, I’m curious,” Baekhyun says, “Minseok is so young, yet he already has Sergeant ranking?”

Jongdae chuckles, perfect teeth framed by a perfect, curly smile. “Ah, Minseok isn’t as young as he looks. He’s a few years older than me, and probably you.”

“I’m 31.”

“Same as me, then.”

Baekhyun nods. He glances down at his glass, runs his finger in circles along the rim. Somewhere in the restaurant, someone drops a glass. 

Jongdae continues, “He’s still young, compared to most Sergeants. But I’ve never met someone more hardworking than him. To his own detriment, really.”

A sip of his drink and a nod, Baekhyun says, “I’m well-versed in that.”

Jongdae’s returning smile is conceding and gentle. “This is pretty personal, but at this point I think you’re more friend than partner. But Minseok has worked himself into some dark places.” There’s a pause, where Jongdae frowns pensively down at this glass half empty. Baekhyun studies him, studies the worry, all the  _ care  _ that’s swimming in his eyes, distant and slightly longing. “He was married once. His wife was lovely. But she deserved better than a husband that was in his office or on the road more than he was at home.”

“Ah,” Baekhyun says, understanding.

“It was hard for him,” Jongdae says with a finite nod. He looks up into Baekhyun’s eyes, assured and emphatic. “But that’s what I was there for. Just to make him feel a little better about the whole thing. I think he felt worse about having broken her heart than actually having  _ his own  _ heart broken.”

Baekhyun hums, thoughtful. “Relationships are hard in our career path. Especially when you actually give a shit about your work.”

The look in Jongdae’s eyes glimmers with a nostalgic longing, as they breach the topic of love and relationships - and Minseok’s part in that. Baekhyun’s a good detective, but it doesn’t take very good detective work to see what’s plainly in front of him. He may not know for sure, may have never confirmed just which way Jongdae swings. But whichever direction it may be, Baekhyun is sure Minseok will be there.

He decides not to dive into that, though. Baekhyun’s a good enough detective to know that’s not something that needs dug up. Instead, he shrugs, puts on a little smirk.

“Ah well. Relationships are hard, but no one said anything about casual dating.”

One of Jongdae’s eyebrows arches. “Oh? Is Detective Byun on the prowl?” Jongdae teases. He dramatically twists his neck this way and that to look around the bar at everyone else sitting in booths or on barstools. “Shall we find you a lovely lady, tonight? Or man. Or either.”

Baekhyun takes a sip of his drink in a sorry attempt to hide his amused smile. He tries to ignore the way Jongdae’s gaze is boring into him, burning into his skin and putting him on the spot. He’s looking for an  _ answer.  _ A question that hovers unspoken between them. From Jongdae, Baekhyun fears no judgement.

So, he mutters, “Man, preferably,” as he sets his drink back down on the coaster. He dares to meet Jongdae’s gaze.

What he’s met with is a coy smirk, the delighted arch of a brow, the sparkle in his eye of someone who has something to say, but is keeping it all to himself. “Hm,” Jongdae hums, casual, matter-of-fact. “Good.”

With small, surprised laughter, Baekhyun says, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing,” Jongdae says with a smile that tells him that it is certainly  _ not  _ nothing. “Nothing at all.”

Huffing in defeat, Baekhyun decides to just change the subject. He raises his glass. “Hey, we haven’t done this properly.” Jongdae quirks a curious brow at him. “To finally making progress on this goddamn investigation.”

Jongdae laughs, loud and clear. “Cheers,” he says, lifting his glass to clink the rim against Baekhyun’s, “I’ll drink to that.”

\-----

Opening the tip line and sending out the media release might be the worst decision they’ve ever made. There are few Comm Centre employees assigned to answer the tip line, and so far have been flooded with a bunch of baseless claims. There’s about a thousand people out there who  _ swear  _ they saw someone who looks just like Bae Joohyun at their local library, or the nail salon they frequent, or at the Starbucks near their office. It’s all useless, every bit of it, and they’re flooded with calls they need to follow up on only for it to be nothing at all. It’s been two weeks of calling back so-and-so about their proclamation of finding the missing celebrity. Not a single one of them provides anything useful.

It’s getting close to 11:00pm on a Thursday night. Baekhyun is hunched over his desk with his head in his hands, having just dictated about fifteen supplementary reports in a row, all telling the exact same story. That they received information from This Person about This Observation, and Baekhyun contacted This Person only to learn that This Observation is unfounded and there are no further investigative avenues. He’s fucking tired of it.

Jongdae, at the desk across the room from him, is in the exact same boat. 

“I’m retiring,” Jongdae mutters. “This is grounds for an early retirement, right?”

“I can  _ feel  _ gray hair growing in. Physically feel it.”

Jongdae laughs, an exhausted, resigned sound. One step forward but two steps back.

A knock on the door interrupts their wallowing. They both look up to see Minseok peeking his head in the door. His smile is equal parts crooked, gummy, and brilliant.

“Good news, boys.”

The three of them scuffle down the hallway together, the empty CID floor jarring and off-kilter. The lights are all dimmed and the desks are all tidied up and Baekhyun is so unused to seeing the chalkboards, whiteboards, collections of evidence without someone working on them. Feels weird, being here this late, but it’s not like any of them have much choice, with the way this case is going.

Minseok talks to them as they follow him through the halls and to the elevator, “A manager of some convenience store about thirty minutes out called into the tip line, said he has CCTV footage of Bae Joohyun in his store with four strange men. We thought it might be too good to be true, but Comm had them send a copy of the file to Tech Support and Tech says it’s legit.”

“No fucking way,” Jongdae guffaws. Sounding just as relieved as Baekhyun feels. 

“I know, too good to be true, right?” Minseok says, smiling over his shoulder at them as they finally reach the elevators. He presses the button going up. “Tech is gone for the day, obviously, but Comm’s holding a copy of the DVD. That’s what we’re going to get right now.”

Baekhyun can’t help but be a little too excited at this news. It’s been  _ weeks  _ of uselessness. And suddenly they finally have a solid lead?

“Jongdae hold me,” he says wistfully, dramatically falling into Jongdae’s side once they step into the elevator.

Jongdae just laughs, wrapping his arms around Baekhyun’s waist to hold his weight up. He’s warm, through the fabrics of their shirts, and Baekhyun decides to stay there for the rest of the trip up to the sixth floor. Minseok spares them an amused glance, smiling sweetly to himself the rest of the way up. Baekhyun decides not to say anything about it.

The sixth floor is always too cold. Baekhyun doesn’t know why this is, but every time he stops by to talk to someone in Comm or Tech, he’s always shivering and wishing he wore his suit jacket to come up here. He’s pretty sure the thermostat is set to the same temperature as the rest of the building. The freezing temperatures of the sixth floor is honestly a mystery he may never solve.

They pass the empty Tech Support Unit. Minseok pushes through the doors that take you into the Comm Centre and Dispatch. They have to keep their voices down, now, to not interrupt the call takers currently typing rapid fire into their computers as they speak in low voices. 

One of the Comm employees assigned to the tip line is sitting in one of the far corners of the room, leaning back in his chair with his chin tilted back and his eyes closed. He doesn’t notice them approaching, and Baekhyun takes that opportunity to tip toe up behind him before pinching his shoulders and making him startle. The quick yelp he lets out before he guiltily slaps a hand over his mouth is enough to have Jongdae stifling his loud laughter.

Yixing glares up at Baekhyun, but his expression immediately softens at the sight of him. Baekhyun’s met Yixing a few times. Friendly, multilingual, soft-spoken. Exactly the type of person who should be taking emergency calls. He has the ability to make anyone feel exceptionally calm no matter what situation they’re in.

That, and he always blatantly and shamelessly flirts with Baekhyun whenever they see each other. So, yeah. Baekhyun likes him.

“Detective Byun,” Yixing says with a dimpled grin. “Never thought I’d see you on one of my nightshifts. How are you, handsome?”

“Tired,” Baekhyun replies honestly, digging his fingers back into Yixing’s shoulders. This time they’re welcome, and Yixing groans at the impromptu massage. “But I hear you have good news for us?”

“I sure do,” Yixing says, leaning forward in his seat and out of Baekhyun’s grip to reach across his desk and grab a disc sleeve labelled,  _ “CCTV Aug 18-19.” _

Jongdae is the one to take it from Yixing. He puts on his widest grin as he thanks Yixing, but Baekhyun can see the way it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. Interesting.

“Come on,” Minseok says. “We don’t wanna be here all night. Let’s go back to my office and take a look at this.”

Baekhyun nods, squeezing Yixing’s shoulders one last time before stepping away to follow Jongdae and Minseok back out into the hall. Yixing flashes him one of his gorgeous smiles and says, “Don’t be a stranger,” in that sweet voice of his. Baekhyun assures him he won’t be with a playful wink.

Inside the elevator, Jongdae says, “So Yixing really likes you, huh?”

“Sure,” Baekhyun says with a shrug. He notices something odd in Jongdae’s voice, something strained, something  _ bothered.  _ Baekhyun, like the little shit he is - and an exhausted shit at that - decides to toy with it a bit. “Yixing’s  _ great.” _

“Yeah,” Jongdae says, short. “Nice guy.”

There’s a sigh from Minseok. “Jongdae, tamp down your alpha male jealousy for a sec, will you? We’ve got a case to solve.”

Baekhyun snorts in an attempt to stifle his laughter. Jongdae just rolls his eyes, but even he can’t fight the way the corners of his mouth curl up more than they naturally do.

They file into Minseok’s office, shut the door, dim the lights, turn on the projector. Minseok busies himself loading up the DVD and saving a copy to the case files and Baekhyun takes this moment of quietness and darkness to study Jongdae and get a feel for whatever this weird tension is that’s built between them, just since the moment they stepped into the Comm Centre and met up with Yixing. He studies the lines of Jongdae, illuminated by the projection screen burning white light into the small, dark room. His folded arms and the cut of his jaw, tense with the exhaustion of their hard work, and maybe something else.

Jealousy, is it? It’s what Minseok said, but Baekhyun can’t quite put his finger on what Jongdae may be jealous of. Jealous of Yixing - for garnering Baekhyun’s attention or otherwise, perhaps. But it’s silly, ridiculous, for Jongdae to think that he has anything to envy Yixing for. As if Jongdae, himself, doesn’t consume most of Baekhyun’s attention, even when his energy should be spent on the case.

Baekhyun doesn’t bother to think about what any of that means. He has far too much work to do to allow himself to care about  _ anything  _ of the sort.

“So this is from the night of the 18th to the 19th,” Minseok says, pulling Baekhyun from his concerningly spiralling thoughts and back to reality, back to the room they’re all in, anxiously waiting for their questions to be answered. “This is the night Joohyun went missing.”

“This is where she went right after leaving her place,” Baekhyun says aloud what everyone else already knows. Minseok and Jongdae both nod. 

The surveillance camera is right behind the cash register. In the bottom of the frame is the back of the cashier’s head, looking out at the rest of the small convenience store. It’s empty, quiet, dark beyond the windows with the timestamp reading that it’s somewhere close to midnight. A minute to midnight, the door at the far end of the store opens, and in walk five people.

Four men. Relatively tall, serious, hardened faces. They surround the fifth member of the party - much smaller, much prettier, less intimidating. The unmistakable beautiful face of Bae Joohyun.

The three of them watch closely, brows stitched together as they try to observe everything they could possibly take in. Baekhyun pays special attention to Joohyun’s demeanour. She’s not in her pajamas that she reportedly left in, having obviously changed between her apartment complex and this corner store. She’s in nondescript jeans and a t-shirt, something that wouldn’t stand out to anybody, as if her presence alone doesn’t gather attention from everyone around her. She stands tall for her stature, talks with the men around her without hesitation. They wander about the store, grabbing various foods, as well as a lighter, some batteries. Weird.

It’s about ten minutes after midnight that one of the men - wearing a t-shirt with the sleeves rolled up to bear the humid August night, an ugly giant tattoo of a cross brandished on his bicep - approaches Joohyun to seemingly ask her something. It’s impossible to miss, the way her expression darkens as she spits back whatever her response may be. The man cowers.

Baekhyun narrows his eyes. “Play that again.”

Minseok does. This time, Baekhyun watches the other men’s reactions. Wide-eyed, unable to meet Joohyun’s gaze. They look guiltily at cross tattoo, with pity, understanding.

“They’re afraid of her,” Baekhyun mutters.

“They don’t have her,” Jongdae agrees with a slow shake of his head,  _ “She  _ has  _ them.” _

Certainly, Baekhyun thinks, these are some unexpected yet critical factors.

The three of them continue watching as the group approach the counter to purchase their things. Joohyun remains at the back of the group, mostly protected from camera footage or the eyes of the shopkeeper. It’s then that Baekhyun retrospectively notices how they continued to surround her like this, how Joohyun could be seen mostly in glimpses between bodies and shelves. They’re there to hide her. From cameras and from eyes. 

From  _ who,  _ Baekhyun would like to know.

When they leave, the camera picks up the illumination of headlights from beyond the windows, the way the lights flash across the store as they presumably leave the parking lot. Baekhyun looks over his shoulder at Minseok.

“Do they have a camera in their parking lot?”

Minseok shakes his head, lips pursed together, obviously having already asked this question. “Unfortunately no. So we don’t have any vehicle details to flag.”

“Shit.”

“This is great, though,” Jongdae says. “This is one hell of a lead. We can map out the routes from Joohyun’s complex to this store, we can patrol the surrounding neighbourhoods. I wanna talk to that cashier.”

Baekhyun smiles at Jongdae, the excitement of finally  _ getting somewhere  _ dissipating the weird unlabelled tension between them. Jongdae grins back.

“Let’s go home and get some rest, boys,” Minseok says, closing out of the video and turning off his projector. “We’ve got some shit to investigate tomorrow.”

\-----

September is, so far, not as unforgivingly hot as August had been. Especially in the mornings, Baekhyun doesn’t find himself tugging at his tie in hopes to breathe just a little bit of air. So far, early September has brought him cooler mornings, where he feels refreshed - despite his pathetic sleep schedule - ambling into the elevator with Jongdae as they, without fail, run a couple minutes late for their daily briefing in Minseok’s office.

Jongdae is talking his ear off about some sort of draft happening with baseball teams and Baekhyun is politely pretending to pay attention. They’re somewhat early today - meaning they’re on time. It surprises Baekhyun to push through the CID doors to find Taeyeon and her partner, Heechul, already elbow deep in paperwork. Taeyeon’s hair is in disarray, as if she’d been running hands through it for hours, as she stands back and points out things for Heechul to add to their bulletin board.

“No, no, connect it to Bangbaebon-Dong-”

“What’s all this?” Baekhyun interrupts, stepping over to squint at the board, cluttered with red string - how cliche - and photographs. Heechul is connecting a photo of a warehouse-type building to a map of Bangbaebon-Dong. 

Taeyeon releases the most long-suffering sigh Baekhyun has ever heard. “Our source came through with a shit ton of new information,” she says, sifting through papers. “We’ve been here since 4:30.”

“This  _ morning?”  _ Jongdae cries out.

Another huff from Taeyeon. “Yeah. But, hey, we finally have some names to attach to faces and their code names,” she gestures to the corner of the board, crowded with photos taken of unknowing people in the streets. “This is the biggest break we’ve had in ages.”

“Holy shit, Tae,” Baekhyun says, stepping in to get a closer look at the board. Heechul is grumbling to himself, accidentally pricking his finger with a thumb tack. 

“Hell fuckin’ yeah,  _ holy shit.  _ Their stakes are only getting higher, we need to shut this shit down immediately.”

“Higher?” Jongdae asks.

Baekhyun frowns at the names. Funny codenames, these guys have come up with. Simple, English words, odd and effective. A name so long and foreign Baekhyun cannot even begin to read it, who goes by Ten. And a Kim Kibum, who goes by Key.  _ Key.  _ He squints harder at the photos. They’re all such  _ young men.  _ Young and clean cut and handsome. It’s shocking that they could be the masterminds behind such a wicked underground culture happening right beneath everyone’s noses.

“There’s still insane amounts of laundered, forged, and otherwise totally illegal money going around,” Heechul says, “but we have reason to believe they’re trafficking people now. Betting on bodies, basically.”

Baekhyun nods. “Well, fuck.”

Taeyeon slouches into the nearest chair. “That’s what I’m saying.”

“Byun, Kim!” 

Baekhyun and Jongdae both spin around to see Minseok standing at the threshold of the hallway leading to the offices, his arms crossed tight over his chest. He quirks an eyebrow at them, unimpressed, tapping his foot. They’re late, as always.

“Sorry, Serge,” Jongdae says with a grin, not seeming sorry at all, as they scuffle their way into Minseok’s office. 

Minseok just rolls his eyes as he shuts the door behind them. “Yeah, whatever. Good morning, boys.”

“Morning, Sergeant,” Baekhyun says while Jongdae just flashes another one of his grins. 

Minseok stands before the two of them, frowning at Baekhyun with a studious gaze. “You getting enough sleep, Byun?”

Baekhyun purses his lips. “Define  _ enough.” _

A sigh. “Alright, well, today’s order of duty is get some coffee into Byun, touch base with Patrol Officers, sift through CCTV footage to see if we can find their vehicle.”

“I’m way behind on dictations,” Baekhyun says. “I’ll stay behind in the office, look through CCTV footage and catch up on some reports. Jongdae, you can go talk to Patrol and see what info they may have.”

“Works for me.”

Minseok claps his hands together. “Great! Get to work.”

Jongdae and Baekhyun both nod their polite goodbyes, shuffling on their feet towards the door. Baekhyun is just about to say something to Jongdae about the colour of his tie reminding him of Christmas a few months too early when Minseok speaks up again.

“Oh, and Byun?”

“Yes, sir.”

Minseok’s eyes are twinkling despite the shitty yellow office lights. “You have any plans for lunch?”

Baekhyun blinks back at him. “I was just gonna eat at my desk and work through it.”

Minseok shakes his head, eyes still glimmering. “Nuh-uh. Come find me on your lunch, you’re spending it with me. Jongdae, you’re welcome to join.”

Baekhyun turns his head to see Jongdae standing with his lips curled into a curious little pout. He’s frowning, eyes narrowed but still sparkling with curiosity, as he tries to dissect the exchange. Baekhyun wishes he could enlighten  _ him  _ about what’s happening.

“I’ll consider it,” Jongdae says, and then he’s out the door and in his and Baekhyun’s shared office.

\-----

At 12:30, Baekhyun decides it’s time to find Minseok and take his hour break. His joints are aching from being hunched over his desk for hours, and he’s been struggling to keep his eyes open for the last forty minutes. He wishes he could force his body into getting regular hours of sleep so that he’s not so disastrously struggling to stay awake - or, honestly, alive - every single day at work. But, he just can’t help it, tossing and turning on his mattress on the floor every night, mind swimming with this case and all the missing plot points, all the factors that have led them to where they’re standing, now, and where it may lead them next. 

He does this. A lot. It’s a problem, the way cases tend to debilitate him, take over his entire life. Especially a case as complicated, as endlessly twisting, with as high of stakes as this case. He’s never had to look for someone so important, before. 

So, now, here he is, with aching bones and crying joints; muddled thoughts and lack of focus. It’s ironic, that his dedication to his work makes him useless at his job.

“I’m going to go find Minseok,” Baekhyun says, groaning as he stands up from his seat. “You coming?”

Jongdae shakes his head without looking up from his computer. “Nah. I know how Minseok spends his lunches and I’m not subjecting myself to such torture.”

“Cryptic,” Baekhyun says, squints, “but alright.”

Two knocks on Minseok’s office door before he’s called inside. Minseok is just locking up his computer as Baekhyun steps in.

“Have you eaten?” Minseok asks.

“I snacked a little bit at my desk, but, no…” Baekhyun answers, confused. Are they not about to have lunch?

“Hm, that’ll have to do.” Minseok folds his sport jacket over the back of his seat. He reaches under his desk and emerges with a gym bag, clearly stuffed full. Baekhyun panics. “No Jongdae?”

“N-no,” Baekhyun says, eyeing the gym bag with nervousness. He hasn’t worked out in  _ ages.  _ Minseok is  _ clearly  _ very fit. Don’t think he hasn’t noticed how Minseok’s shoulders fill out his pressed white shirts. “And I think I now know why.”

Minseok rolls his eyes as he walks over to Baekhyun. “Lazy bums. Come on, it’ll be good for you.”

With a hand on the small of Baekhyun’s back, Minseok leads him out through CID and to the elevators. Baekhyun resigns himself to his fate. There’s no backing out of this now, and for some reason or other, he can’t quite find it in himself to refuse Minseok. He looks so cute and eager to be doing this, and Baekhyun just can’t deny him anything, he thinks. Maybe he has a little more understanding for the way Jongdae treats their boss. 

“It always helps me,” Minseok says, suddenly. “Getting some exercise it just… it clears my head, you know? Helps me sort things out and destress.”

“You think I need to destress?” Baekhyun mocks offence. Minseok just shoots him an incredulous glare. “Alright, fine. Yes, I do.”

Minseok claps a hand down on Baekhyun’s shoulder. “It happens to the best of us.”

Baekhyun - surprise, surprise - has not yet been to the gym at Headquarters. He knows it’s there. It has just never been of his interest to ever step foot in there, until now. Before they even enter, as they walk by the entrance to get to the locker rooms, he hears the sounds of metal clanging on metal, rap music blasting through speakers, the chatter of a few men and women. He’s officially intimidated.

Minseok has a clean set of gym clothes for Baekhyun to borrow. They undress in amicable silence, Baekhyun folding up his nice, burgundy dress shirt to avoid wrinkles. 

“So, Byun,” Minseok says, sliding a pair of jogging shorts up his legs. “You work out, much?”

Baekhyun scoffs. “Do I look like I work out much?”

He immediately regrets uttering those words, as he feels fire as Minseok’s eyes devour him. Baekhyun feels extremely exposed - embarrassingly so - as Minseok rakes in his bare torso, his strong chest but soft stomach, increasingly aware of Minseok’s stupid perfect pecs and stupid perfect biceps and stupid perfect abs. And that stupid perfect  _ smirk  _ on his crooked mouth.

“I mean, I guess  _ not,”  _ Minseok says. “But I’ve certainly seen worse in my life.”

Baekhyun’s shackles raise at the slightly suggestive lilt in Minseok’s words. He decides to ignore it. “After I moved up from Uniform I kinda let myself go,” Baekhyun says with a sigh.

“Please,” Minseok scoffs. “I’d hardly say you let yourself go. Are you ready yet?”

Baekhyun looks down at the sweatpants - too tight across his hips - and the t-shirt - too tight across his shoulders - and his sneakers. He sighs. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

The gym isn’t as crowded as it had sounded. Seulgi, the Uniform Officer Baekhyun had met weeks ago was sitting on one of the machines, chatting away with a taller fellow who had the widest, most ridiculous grin on his face. She meets Baekhyun’s eye as they walk in and a friendly smile spreads on her face.

“Detectives,” she greets them. The guy she was talking to turns around and flashes them another large grin.

“Seulgi, Chanyeol,” Minseok greets as he steps up to them. “Baekhyun, have you met Constable Park yet?”

“No, he has not,” Chanyeol answers for him, thrusting out a hand for Baekhyun to shake. “Name’s Chanyeol. Those two over there are Jongin and Wonho,” he says, gesturing over to the bench press, where the one who’s spotting offers him a quick wave, but the guy currently pressing a shocking amount of weight can only grunt out a  _ Sup?  _

“It’s nice to meet you,” Baekhyun says with his charming smile, raking in the  _ size  _ of these guys. “Lemme guess - Tactical Unit?”

Chanyeol’s smile broadens, if even possible. “That’s us.”

“Anyway, Park, would love to stay and chat but,” Minseok says, slapping a hand down on Chanyeol’s shoulder. Or,  _ up  _ on Chanyeol’s shoulder. “I gotta whip my detective into shape here.”

“I won’t even pretend to be offended,” Baekhyun says, earning a laugh from the others as Minseok steers him toward the treadmills.

“Just a light workout today, yeah?” Minseok says, much to Baekhyun’s relief. “Just enough to get the heart rate up and the mind off things.”

“Sounds good to me,” Baekhyun says, turning his treadmill up to a steady pace.

And maybe Minseok was onto something. Because as Baekhyun falls into the rhythmic pace of a light jog, he kind of gets lost in the steady  _ thump thump thump  _ of his feet on the treadmill and his heart in his chest. It’s easier, to let his mind wander that way, linear and clear instead of a jumbled array of every thought he’s ever had at once. His thoughts - when stripped down to one at a time, leading seamlessly into the next - are welcome and valuable, especially when Baekhyun has so much to figure out.

Baekhyun thinks. He’s out of breath and losing stamina but he doesn’t stop, not if he can be here and  _ think.  _ He thinks about the case, about how long they’ve been waiting for her bank statements, about her odd behaviour, about her little army of men who were seemingly under her complete control. About the neighbourhood she had found herself in, and wherever the hell she may be hiding. And most importantly,  _ why  _ is she hiding?

And Baekhyun thinks. He’s struggling to keep up at his pace but there’s no chance of him stopping, not when he has this time to clear his head and organize his own thoughts and feelings like this. He thinks about more than just the case - he thinks about who he’s solving this case with. He thinks about Minseok, to his left, who tries so hard to be strict and tough but bends backwards for him and Jongdae. Who cares, who involves himself just as much as the detectives who work for him, who does anything to make the workload a little less burdensome. And he thinks about Jongdae, who fit himself so comfortably into Baekhyun’s lonely little life, who is the perfect person to bounce off ideas with, who is always thinking the exact same thing as Baekhyun, if not five steps ahead. 

Jongdae, with his curly smile and high cheekbones and clear, melodic laughter. And Minseok, with his gazes that linger and burn and his small acts of phenomenal kindness.

Baekhyun lowers the speed of his treadmill down to a brisk walk. He can’t do this a moment longer.

And luckily, he doesn’t have to, as the internal phone hung up by the gym doors rings, and Chanyeol answers it. He nods a few times before turning around and calling out, “Byun!”

“Yeah?” Baekhyun turns off his treadmill and hops off. He shares a look with Minseok, both of them shrugging out of cluelessness, before walking over to where Chanyeol’s standing by the phone.

Chanyeol holds the phone out for him. “It’s Yixing.”

Baekhyun frowns. “Yixing?” he says into the phone.

“Detective!” Yixing cheers. “I’d chat but I don’t think we have the time.”

Another frown. “Why, what’s up?”

“Tip line received a call today - just now, actually. She’s on the phone with your partner right now.”

Baekhyun’s heart rate picks up again, as if he’s back on his treadmill. He glances back at Minseok, who has since climbed off his treadmill and is making his way over to where he’s standing. “Who?”

“You ever hear of a little lady named Wendy Son?”

\-----

Son Seungwan - or known to the public as Wendy Son - is an idolized and decorated singer and well known best friend of one Bae Joohyun. 

The two of them devour tabloid covers, between being two beautiful, adored women in the world of celebrity. They do everything together; parties, award shows, benefits, restaurant openings, anything that requires leaving the house, they do it together. If  _ anyone  _ were to know about Joohyun’s deepest secrets, about the double life she’s been living, about  _ where  _ she may possibly be… it’s Wendy Son.

Which is why Baekhyun, Jongdae, and Minseok had been at the office until 3:00am that night, pacing back and forth and putting together an outline for which questions, what information they want to ask for. It was decided that Baekhyun would conduct the interview, this time, and together they brainstormed for hours about what information Wendy may know, what things she may have seen.

Even the next morning, their office is still a mess of cut up newspapers and magazines that they used to set up a timeline of events, to know where the two of them were seen together and when. They spent  _ hours  _ putting this together, until they had a timeline that went back nearly 8 months. Their backs all ache and their eyes are all bloodshot with lack of sleep, but it’s  _ worth it.  _

Minseok shoves a mug of coffee into Baekhyun’s hand. They’re in Jongdae and Baekhyun’s office this morning. Minseok has decided to do a very informal briefing today. 

“Ms. Son should be here within the hour,” Minseok says, voice gravelly with exhaustion. Baekhyun feels mostly normal - he’s been running on this pathetic amount of sleep for most of this case. “We already have it all set up for her to come in without anyone ever knowing. We’ll be meeting her at the underground entrance when her driver calls.”

They all stand in pensive silence for a moment. Jongdae leans back against his desk, Minseok digs his knuckles into his tired eyes, and Baekhyun takes steady gulps of is coffee, effectively burning his tongue. 

“There’s a chance Ms. Son has nothing new for us,” Minseok says. “But, what’s more important, is there’s also a chance that she may have everything we need.”

“I’ll do what I can to dig up anything we can work with,” Baekhyun says, staring resolutely at the carpeting. 

“Remember, Byun,” Minseok says, “you’re not alone in there. Jongdae and I are one room over and hearing everything. If you ever need to discuss the next step we’re right there.”

“Dude, you’ll do fine,” Jongdae cuts in. Baekhyun looks up from the floor to meet Jongdae’s gaze, his eyebrows curled up in sincerity. “We worked on this outline for hours. And you’re a good detective, you’ll know what to ask when the time comes.”

It takes a moment, but Baekhyun nods.

The phone in Minseok’s office rings. Everyone already knows exactly what it is, but Minseok gives them each a nod before heading across the hall to answer. His voice could be heard talking lowly on the phone, before there’s a  _ click  _ and Minseok is coming back across the hall to their office.

“She’s here,” he says, “let’s go.”

The trip down to the underground parking lot is painfully silent. A silence that fills the air with a palpable thickness that sticks to Baekhyun’s skin. There is so much riding on this moment, this entire case can be flipped upside down within the next two hours, and the trio of them are  _ feeling it  _ to the very core of their beings. Let alone that Minseok and Jongdae are both running on shockingly less sleep than they regularly do. 

Wendy Son’s vehicle is sleek and nondescript. Nothing flashy or expensive, just a black vehicle with blacked out windows. Certainly not a vehicle that would raise any eyebrows.

Wendy Son, however, is anything but nondescript. Even without makeup or an elaborate gown, she still stands so fantastically out from everything else in this gray, melancholy Police Station parking lot. She wrings her hands together nervously, having yet to realize that the three of them are approaching, clearly stuck in her head and suffocating in thoughts.

“Ms. Son,” Minseok says as they near, finally gaining her attention.

She smiles, polite and sweet, but the fear and worry in her eyes is apparent. “Hi.”

“I’m Detective Sergeant Kim Minseok,” Minseok continues as he shakes her trembling hand. “I’m overseeing Ms. Bae’s case. These two gentlemen here are Detectives Byun Baekhyun and Kim Jongdae. They’re the men looking for her.”

She smiles at them both, so pretty they could almost be fooled. But as Baekhyun steps in to shake her hand, he can see the glass wall she’s built up between her gaze and the one she meets. Nearly impenetrable, hollowed with fear.

“Detective Byun, I’ll be the one chatting with you today,” Baekhyun says, just as their hands separate. “But, please, call me Baekhyun.”

She nods. “Baekhyun, then.”

Jongdae introduces himself, she politely greets him in return and they all turn to head inside, along with Wendy’s bodyguard (redundant, considering she’s literally entering a building full of . Baekhyun watches it all with a careful, studious eye - the tension in her shoulders, the flashes of emotion in her gaze, the tightness of her lips. Wendy Son is more than nervous about the interview, more than concerned for her missing friend. Wendy Son is  _ petrified.  _

The process of setting up happens quickly. Everyone is quiet and pensive, and Minseok had everything so perfectly orchestrated, not a single soul in the halls as they pass through, a commissioner already ready and waiting when they arrive at the soft interview room. Wendy declines swearing on the Bible, and affirms instead, and Baekhyun thinks that’s an interesting choice, studying the way her gaze fixates on the tiled floors as she speaks.

And then it’s just the two of them in there.

“So, Ms. Son-”

“Just- just Seungwan is fine.”

Baekhyun nods. He feels for her, the way she’s sunken into her seat and her hands wring together anxiously in her lap. “Seungwan, I’m going to start at the very basics. And I want you to know that if I ask you a question and you don’t know the answer, don’t make any guesses. Only tell me what you know. Okay?”

Seungwan nods.

“And if I get any details wrong, don’t hesitate to correct me. I won’t be offended, I promise.”

Fortunately, that makes Seungwan crack a small smile. “Sure.”

“Alright. We’ll start with the obvious. Why are you here today, Seungwan?”

She glances up at him, then, a thoughtful stirring in her eyes, her mouth twisted in consideration, “Bae Joohyun is missing, has been missing for weeks… And I- I might have information that can be useful.”

Baekhyun smiles, nods. He leans forward in his seat, leans an elbow on the table, gives Seungwan all the physical signals that she’s allowed to open up to him, and he is there to receive the information. “Fantastic. If I can speak on behalf of both my partner and I, I’d say we’ll take any information we can get.”

“Ha, yeah,” Seungwan laughs out, somewhat cynical. “I’m sorry it’s taken me this long to come forward.”

Baekhyun shakes his head. “Don’t be, you’re here now and that’s what matters.” He sighs internally at the sight of Seungwan relaxing in her chair a bit, less hesitant to make eye contact. “What might this information you have be?”

Seungwan opens her mouth to answer, her chest inflating with an intake of breath. It’s visible, the cogs turning in her skull, her eyes wide as she stares back at Baekhyun, processing, trying to piece everything together. He waits, patiently, as Seungwan thinks and thinks. 

And then, “I- I don’t know where to start.”

“That’s fine,” Baekhyun says with a nod, “I do. Can you tell me the nature of your relationship with Joohyun, how you two met?”

All the progress Seungwan had made in opening up immediately reverts, as she shrinks back into her chair and drops her chin into her chest. It’s so quick, Baekkhyun has to blink himself out of it, almost of the belief that he had imagined it all. 

“Um,” she says. Her voice is so small. Baekhyun glances at the cameras, where he knows Minseok and Jongdae are watching, as if that’ll tell him whether or not the mics have picked her voice up. 

She looks up at Baekhyun then, and her eyes shine, full to the brim with tears threatening to spill. Baekhyun schools his expression, putting on his best Detective Face. 

“This is all- everything is confidential, right?” Seungwan near whispers. Baekhyun nods, as sincerely as he can muster up. A tear slips past Seungwan’s lashes as her face scrunches up, painted with worry. “Do you promise? Do you  _ really  _ promise?”

“Of course, Seungwan. We’re all under Oath.”

Seungwan buries her face in her hands and allows one quiet sob to escape her chest. Baekhyun tightens his grip on the pen he has hovering over his notepad. 

“It’s why it took me so long t-to come forward,” she breathes out, shaky and fragile. “I’m so afraid… so fucking scared of anyone else knowing. Anyone at all.”

“And what is that, Seungwan?”

“It’ll end my career.”

“Seungwan, your secret is safe with us. Any information that isn’t vital to the case can be vetted from Court documents.”

Baekhyun learns exactly what it is that Seungwan was so afraid of from the moment she stepped out of her car when she picks up her head and says to him, “Joohyun and I are together. We have been for- for  _ years.” _

With a nod and a decision not to jot this down in his notepad, in order to not freak Seungwan out, Baekhyun says. “Romantically involved?”

There’s hesitation in the wetness of Seungwan’s eyes. Then, a small nod.

“Well, Seungwan, I can assure you that between the two of us in this room, there isn’t any room for judgement.” He earns a small laugh. “How long have you two known each other?”

“God, we met when we were  _ teenagers,”  _ Seungwan says, a sweet, nostalgic smile on her face. Baekhyun far prefers that to the heavy guard she had built up earlier. “Had been best friends for a few years then… when I was nineteen? I think? She kissed me and- and that was that.”

Baekhyun can’t help but smile. “That long, huh? So you must know Joohyun inside out.”

There’s a gentle flush to the tops of Seungwan’s cheeks. She looks down at her hands in her lap. “I thought so. She’s my- she’s special to me and we’ve just been… partners in crime forever, you know?”

A nod. “Yeah, I get it.”

“It was… maybe about five or six months before she disappeared that things began to spiral out of control.”

Five or six months. That matches a similar timeline to what Joohyun’s father had provided. Baekhyun jots down notes, quickly. He thinks back to the timeline the three of them had put together last night, with tabloid covers and social media posts. 

“Can you think back to a specific day that everything changed?” Baekhyun asks, trying to dampen the hopefulness in his tone. 

Seungwan thinks. And thinks. Her eyebrows furrow together and she sucks her bottom lip in between her teeth. “I- I can’t say for sure. We started going to this one club a lot around that time.”

“What club?”

_ “Shine?”  _ Seungwan says, face scrunching up as though she can’t comprehend how this could all be connected. “Do you know the one?”

Baekhyun can visualize it, visualize all the photographs they have of the two of them, in their stylish, expensive party wear, seen coming in and out of that very club. “I do.”

“It wasn’t even all  _ that  _ fun. I’ve been to more fun clubs. But Joohyun insisted we keep going back. I think… something fishy might be going on below that bar.”

Baekhyun tilts his head to the side. “What gives you reason to believe that?”

Seungwan just shakes her head, looking distantly into the air in front of her. “It’s just- like, Joohyun would disappear for a little bit every night. For the first little while, at least. We would go to the bar together, then for a couple hours she would just disappear and I had no idea where she went. And she would reappear, smiling like nothing had even happened. One time she reappeared with a new watch on? I still never found out where the watch had come from.”

Well,  _ shit.  _ Baekhyun scribbles frantically into his notepad. He hopes Jongdae and Minseok are doing the same. 

“Did this suspicious behaviour ever escalate?”

Seungwan nods. “Yeah, she- she started going to the club by herself. And then… other places. Just started keeping secrets from me and when I asked where she was going she would just… tell me it’s better if I didn’t know. Like that could possibly make me feel any better about being in the dark.”

Baekhyun’s hand is cramping from how viciously he’s writing onto his paper. “Do you have any clue where she went at these times?”

“No idea,” Seungwan says softly with a shake of her head. “She just started… disappearing for a little bit at a time. Even when she was physically there, she would be- she’d be elsewhere. Always looking over her shoulder, checking her phone.”

“She was scared.”

“Very. I don’t know what she was doing, I just know it must have gotten dangerous. Out of her control.” Then, Seungwan crumbles, collapsing into herself and crying into her hands. She shakes and she sniffles, and Baekhyun can only wait, listen, as she shivers out a, “She was so  _ scared  _ all the time. What has she  _ done?”  _

There’s a box of tissues on top of the table that sits between Baekhyun and Seungwan. He pushes the box closer to her, murmurs for her to take her time. He glances over his notes, tries to connect dots.  _ What  _ could possibly be going on at  _ Shine Nightclub  _ that they don’t know about?

The room begins to quiet, the sniffling fewer and farther in between. Baekhyun says, “Is there  _ anything  _ that you can think of? Things she’s ever said to you that don’t make any sense to you but made sense to her?”

“I, I don’t-” Seungwan sniffles with a shake of her head. She looks up at Baekhyun, eyes red rimmed and lashes clumped together with tears. Her expression is full of panic, and it almost frightens Baekhyun, his heart picking up pace. “I can’t really think of something, except… no.”

“Except what, Seungwan? Any information is invaluable.”

Baekhyun can’t even begin to  _ consider  _ tearing his gaze away from Seungwan’s, her expression so sincere, so earnest, that it draws him in like a magnetic force. “She kept saying she needs to find a key.”

“A key to what?”

Seungwan shrugs. “I have no idea. She just never shut up about this goddamn  _ key.”  _

There’s a moment of poignant silence, nothing but the buzz of the fluorescent lights and the ringing of revelation in Baekhyun’s ears. His pen clatters to the floor as he pushes himself out from his chair, the legs skidding along the floor so loudly in such silence.

“I’ll be right back.”

Jongdae is flanked at his side the second he pushes through the door to the interview room and out into the hallway. Baekhyun barely notices him, tunnel vision kicked in, heart pounding so loudly he can  _ feel  _ the blood pumping in his ears. 

“What is it?” Jongdae asks, and he receives no answer. Instead, Baekhyun continues storming down the halls, back out to the CID common area. He winds through tables and pushes through other Officers mingling about.

Until he arrives in front of Taeyeon’s pinboard. 

Staring straight at the face of Kim “Key” Kibum.

“Fuck,” Jongdae says from somewhere behind him. 

“Tae,” Baekhyun spins around, finding her seated at a table not far from the board. “Your investigation, does it have any connection with the  _ Shine Nightclub  _ around Bangbaebon-Dong?”

Taeyeon’s eyes widen. “I mean-  _ yeah,  _ we just never had enough concrete evidence to point to it.”

“Do you suspect that it’s a front for the gambling ring happening beneath it?”

“Baekhyun,  _ shit,”  _ Jongdae says.

Taeyeon glances past Baekhyun’s shoulder at Jongdae, then back up to meet Baekhyun’s unwavering gaze. “I’ve been trying to prove it for months, now.”

Baekhyun nods. “Thank you, Tae.” He spins on his heel, begins stalking back down the hall toward the interview room, where Seungwan is waiting with a barrel full of information that Baekhyun can devour, whether she knows it or not. “I think I know what happened to Bae Joohyun.”

\-----

The more information that becomes available to them, the less and less Baekhyun sees of his shoebox apartment. He spends long hours at the office, stays behind hunched over the paperwork spread out on his desk despite the concerned glances that Jongdae and Minseok spare him as they depart every evening. He stumbles home at ungodly hours, gets a pathetic amount of sleep, showers, and comes right back to work the next day.

He’s still living out of boxes. His mattress is still on the floor. His fridge is empty save for a jug of water and a couple of soju bottles that sit sad and untouched. But what’s the point of making his home feel more like  _ home  _ when he doesn’t spend any actual substantial time there?

There’s just too much for him to do, too much information for him to sort through and piece together. Now that this investigation is lining up with Taeyeon’s, he has all of the information that she and Heechul had spent  _ months  _ gathering to sift through. He has Joohyun’s bank statements and different witness statements from both his and Taeyeon’s investigation to read through and analyze a million times over. 

Joohyun, undeniably, had got in over her head in this gambling ring, put herself in danger, and now she’s nowhere to be found. What Baekhyun needs to know is why she’s on the run, who’s after her? Where has she gone? What did she do?

“Byun.” There’s a knock on his office door. It’s Taeyeon. Baekhyun wonders what she’s doing here at nearly 10:00pm, but figures he could ask the same about himself. “I’m heading out. Thanks again for the scribe notes. I don’t think Seungwan realizes how much of a help she really was.”

Baekhyun nods. He’d supplied Taeyeon and Heechul with a vetted copy of the highlights from Seungwan’s interview. Her knowledge was priceless, once she started listing off dates and times and places her and Joohyun would attend and something strange would happen. It became so abundantly clear, all the places to consider hot spots for Taeyeon’s investigation. 

Both cases are getting closer and closer to the end. Nobody in CID can contain their excitement.

“Go home, Byun,” Taeyeon says. “Get some rest.”

“Unlikely,” Baekhyun says with a cynical smile. Taeyeon just rolls her eyes in response before she departs from his doorway. 

There’s a buzz from the edge of Baekhyun’s desk, his work issued cell phone lighting up with an incoming message. It’s from Jongdae.

With a small smile, Baekhyun opens it up. He makes the conscious decision to ignore the fluttering in his stomach at the sight of the notification.

It’s a picture of Minseok, sitting across a table from where Jongdae is taking the photo, a table full of food and drinks between them. The lighting is unfairly flattering on the tops of Minseok’s cheekbones, his expression both playful and annoyed, exasperated at Jongdae’s obvious insistence at taking a photo. Baekhyun stares at it for a moment too long, almost missing the caption below it.

_ This could be us but you playin _

Another message comes in a second later.

_ Workin* my bad _

Baekhyun snorts, rolls his eyes. He texts Jongdae back, something brief about how it looks delicious. Then makes sure to clarify that he means the food and not Minseok. Jongdae doesn’t need to know about the way his face heats up embarrassingly as he types away on his phone.

He wishes he could be there, for some reasons he can and some reasons he can’t acknowledge. But, there’s just so much work to do and so much dreaming to postpone as long as possible.

In one hand he has the extensive bank statements from Joohyun’s private bank account, the one she opened without her father’s knowledge. Spread out before him is a connection of his and Taeyeon’s timelines, linking together days where Joohyun must have been gambling, along with what few confirmed stakes Taeyeon had dug up. He highlights whatever transfers to her bank account around the times she’s spotted at places on dates that Taeyeon and Heechul had marked as important, counting her wins and her losses.

She doesn’t have a single loss.

It’s tedious work, but it’s work that must be done. The kind of work that makes time blur together and vision go fuzzy. At some point during the night, Baekhyun’s body begins to break into shivers, despite the way he feels as though he’s dying of heat, and he has to loosen his tie and roll up his sleeves and power through. He  _ has to  _ power through.

He’s onto something. He  _ feels it _ in his gut. He’s getting close. An arm’s reach away.

His head is pounding. There's a storm brewing between his ears and his bones ache to his very core and he blinks, rapidly, harshly, trying to ease the burning under his eyelids. He doesn’t know what time it is, but he thinks the sun may be starting to come up from beyond the blinds. He can’t be too sure.

The highlighting begins to all blur together, just muscle memory that requires no focus. He’s stopped paying attention to what she’s winning, so accustomed to seeing such large sums of money being wired to her account, money that anybody would miss, having lost it in a game of Poker or whatever these people are doing behind closed doors. 

That is until Baekhyun lands on something that isn’t just a heinously long number. It’s not a money transfer at all.

It’s… a deed?

It seems like something minuscule, but it’s the only thing to break this long pattern of just lumps of money after lumps of money, so Baekhyun blinks away the sandpaper behind his eyelids and flips through some of Taeyeon’s paperwork to find what was at stake around that time. A house. The address matches up with the address on the deed. 

_ Fuck. _

He nearly knocks half the papers off of his desk in his haste to get on his computer, searching their database for that address and seeing what involvement it’s had as of late. There’s only one entry in the last year or so, coincidentally only last week - a Firearms complaint that ended up being non-reportable as unfounded. 

Still, Baekhyun is desperate for answers. So he looks into it. 

The complainant had called in stating that they observed a man at that address with what looked to be a prohibited firearm. The Officers went to check it out and found no evidence of any weapons and left it at that. There’s descriptors, that the complainant left about the man they observed; stocky build, shoddy haircut, and a gaudy tattoo of a cross on his bicep. 

Baekhyun’s heart begins to beat loud enough to drown out the dull ringing that’s been in his ears for hours. He clicks through his folders until he finds the surveillance video from the convenience store. And he sees him. Sticky build, shoddy haircut, gaudy tattoo of a cross on his bicep. 

He’s found her. Baekhyun’s found her. 

“Baekhyun?” It’s Jongdae, who’s opening the door to their office with a frown on his face. Shit, it must be morning. Baekhyun forgot to go home. 

Behind Jongdae, Minseok follows, looking equally concerned and measurably more angry. “Byun, what the hell? Have you been here all night?” 

Baekhyun, delusional in all his exhaustion, just says, “I know where Joohyun is.”

“What?”

“Baek-” Minseok squeezes past Jongdae and into the office. He steps up to Baekhyun, behind the desk, and crowds into his space. “You haven’t gone home? Baekhyun…”

Baekhyun slaps Minseok’s hands away as they try to reach for him, turning instead to all of his paperwork scattered over his desk. “She’s- Joohyun is at-”

There’s a hiss from Minseok as he finally presses his cold hand to Baekhyun’s forehead. “You’re burning up! Byun, you gotta go home-”

“But, I- she’s  _ here,  _ I found..”

“Baekhyun,” Jongdae says, a calm voice that anchors Baekhyun, fills his chest with gravity until he’s back on earth, in his desk chair. “Dude, you gotta go home. You can’t do this to yourself.”

Baekhyun agrees, he really does, there’s just so much to share. “But-” 

“I get it,” Minseok says. “Leave all your findings out on your desk here. Jongdae, take him home and make sure he gets to bed. I’m going to look over what Baekhyun has and see if we need to apply for search warrants.”

A groan of frustration does nothing to change anyone’s minds, and soon Baekhyun is being guided out of his chair and out of his office. He hears Jongdae and Minseok saying something to each other, but his head is hurting so bad and he’s just far too exhausted to even try to comprehend anything. There’s a hand on his back that he belatedly realizes is Jongdae’s, and he’s being guided out of CID and to the elevators. 

In the privacy of the elevator, Jongdae says to him, “you should probably stop doing this.”

And Baekhyun tries desperately to find a good excuse. He comes up with, “I just- get really invested in my work.”

“No shit,” Jongdae says with an eye roll. “Baekhyun, you’re working yourself  _ sick  _ over this case. And for what? For boring paperwork that will still be there tomorrow.”

“I know, it’s just-”

“No justs. Seriously, Baekhyun, you should see yourself.” Jongdae’s voice has softened, gentle and cautious. It settles comfortably against Baekhyun’s uncomfortable skin. “Minseok and I are just worried about you is all.”

Baekhyun can’t help but smile down at his feet at that. “You guys are too good to me. I’m just your co-worker.”

“You’re more than just my co-worker,” Jongdae says, voice form and indisputable. It makes something in Baekhyun’s gut twist, but he doesn’t have the bravery to ask Jongdae what  _ exactly  _ he means by that. “And here I thought Minseok was an incurable workaholic.”

“Hey,” Baekhyun says as they step out into the underground parking, “at least I fucking found her.”

Jongdae’s smile is wide, infectious, positively mesmerizing. “That’s tomorrow’s problem.”

Baekhyun smiles, fights his inner urge to argue, follows Jongdae through the parking lot. “Hey, what about my car?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Jongdae replies, reaching a hand out as though he’s prepared to grab Baekhyun if he tries to make a bee-line for his car. “I’ll take you to work tomorrow. I don’t want you driving  _ this  _ fatigued, I’d have to call it in as an impaired.”

With a sigh, Baekhyun relents. 

And it’s for the better, as the second they pull out onto the street and Baekhyun informs Jongdae of his address - it took him a second, since he’s still so new to this apartment he barely can remember the address when prompted - he feels himself starting to doze off, forehead against the window, chest heavy with fatigue. The drive is peaceful, most of it travelled with his eyes closed, and it isn’t long until Jongdae is pulling into Baekhyun’s building’s parking lot and cutting the engine. 

“Come on,” he says, softly. “Let’s get some aspirin in you and get you to bed.” 

Baekhyun doesn’t even have time to prepare himself for letting Jongdae into his apartment before Jongdae’s stepping through the front door and immediately gasping in shock. Right. Baekhyun’s been living here for over a month, and still, hardly any personal belongings have made their way out of their boxes. 

“You live like this?” Jongdae shrieks. It does nothing for Baekhyun’s headache. 

“I work all the time,” he grumbles in response. “Don’t judge me.”

Jongdae snorts, but puts his hands up in surrender, regardless. “No judgement. Go get PJs on, I’ll try to find your aspirin.”

“Medicine cabinet in the bathroom,” Baekhyun murmurs as he wanders over to his bedroom to get out of yesterday’s suit.

He struggles to change, covered in cold sweats and shivering all over. Now that he’s home, slipping into pajamas, he realizes just how much he really feels as though he’s rotting away. He knows, in theory, that working yourself to the bone, running on fumes for weeks at a time, is far from the practical thing to do. It’s applying that knowledge that Baekhyun always struggles with.

When Jongdae comes into Baekhyun’s room, he’s already half under the covers and so close to just  _ passing out  _ from his exhaustion it’s a miracle that Jongdae can even make him swallow the aspirin and chug some water. Baekhyun might be a little loopy, delirious with his fever and fatigue, but there’s something in the warm, caring expression on Jongdae’s face that makes the shivers in his body feel like something a little more pleasant.

No time to think about that now, though. Now it is time to sleep.

\-----

Baekhyun’s sheets and pajamas are damp when he wakes up with a start, sticky and uncomfortable against his skin. He feels better, unsure of how long he’s been sleeping, and his body isn’t sore all over and shivering down to his bones. He points his toes to stretch his legs, groans quietly into his pillow. His fever must have broke sometime during his nap.

His phone on the floor next to his mattress tells him it’s mid-afternoon. He’s been out for a little over six hours, not nearly enough for him to really make up for all that lost time. Baekhyun figures it must be the fever breaking that woke him up.

That is until he hears a small clang from beyond his bedroom door, some quiet chatter. He frowns. He figured Jongdae had just gone back to work the second Baekhyun clocked out, but there isn’t anyone else who would be in his apartment that Baekhyun knows of. 

Quietly, he tip-toes out of his room and peaks around the corner into his main living area. His eyes widen at the sight of his couch pushed flush against the wall, in a location better fit, his bookshelf assembled and filled with his accumulated junk. He frowns at the piles of laundry all over the living room, all smelling freshly clean and only half of them folded and ready to be put away. He’s… awe-struck. And completely touched at this gesture.

There’s another quiet clatter, and Baekhyun looks further into the apartment to see Jongdae in his kitchen, his back to Baekhyun… talking to Minseok. There are paper bags of groceries lining his counters, and Minseok stands over a cutting board, preparing something, glancing over his shoulder to smile sweetly at whatever Jongdae is quietly saying to him. 

Baekhyun can’t believe all the effort his co-workers - his  _ friends  _ \- have put into fixing up his apartment while he slept. He begins to take a step forward, to go up and thank them, but then Jongdae steps up close to Minseok, and something within Baekhyun halts - holds him back from taking that step forward.

He just watches. The two of them are talking lowly with each other, mirth in Minseok’s eyes as he turns to look at Jongdae, seeing nothing  _ but  _ Jongdae. All Baekhyun can see of Jongdae is the backs of his shoulders, his arm reaching out to wrap around Minseok’s hips, and Baekhyun knows what’s happening, sees it before it even starts, reads it in the way Minseok’s eyelashes flutter against his cheekbones and the corner of his crooked lips quirk up.

Baekhyun steps back behind the corner once their lips meet. His heart is racing and his chest is inflating and he doesn’t think he could even stand having to watch that for any longer. Even though he - scarily enough - really,  _ really  _ wants to. 

Instead, he turns on his heel and decides now is as good a time as any to hop in the shower, rinse off his fever sweat and clear his mind, perhaps, of the chaos that’s erupted at the sight of his partner and his boss  _ kissing  _ in  _ his kitchen.  _ He peels his pajamas off his body, turns his shower on as hot as it will go without permanently damaging his skin, and leaps under the spray like his life depends on it. 

It helps, a bit, to breathe in the steam and scrub at his hair, his body. It clarifies things, not just cleaning him physically but decluttering his thoughts, his feelings. 

It’s a lot to sort through. Surprise, shock, maybe - as though he hasn’t been glaringly aware of their obvious feelings for each other for sometime. But Baekhyun would be lying to himself if he didn’t admit that he feels, too, for Jongdae and Minseok alike. He tries to deny it, tries to filter all thoughts to the back of his head, tries to prioritize his work, this  _ case  _ over anything but… it’s hard. When the people around you are the charming and caring Jongdae and the smart and admirable Minseok it becomes impossible to push it all aside, sort it out to the very back of the mind, pretend it isn’t there. Because it  _ is.  _ It’s so obviously, undeniably  _ there.  _

And that’s what stumps Baekhyun. This feeling in his chest, his stomach, at the sight of the two of them kissing - is it jealousy? It isn’t unpleasant. It’s far from it.

Sure, if he’ll allow himself to admit it, he would like to kiss his partner and his sergeant. But he doesn’t mind them kissing each other, either.

Well. Those are certainly some unexpected yet critical factors.

He doesn’t take much longer in the shower, soon stepping out and scrubbing at his hair with a towel. He wipes the steam off of the mirror, taking a moment to look at himself in the reflection - at his hollow cheeks and sunken eyes. But, admittedly, Baekhyun does look better than he has the past few days. 

“Shit,” Baekhyun forgot to grab a change of clothes in his haste to get away from all… that. Sighing in defeat, he wraps his towel around his waist, hopes that Minseok and Jongdae are still preoccupied. He doesn’t really want to run into either of them when he’s half naked like this.

Except he walks into his room and there’s both Minseok and Jongdae, seated on the floor with the parts for his bed frame all spread out. Minseok has the instructions in his hand, and Jongdae’s trying to stick two pieces together, but they both look up at the sound of Baekhyun coming through the door, and Baekhyun fights the urge to spring back down the hallway. 

“He rises,” Minseok says, smile spreading across his face. Baekhyun can’t look at his mouth without thinking about how Jongdae had just been kissing it. “How are you feeling?”

“Better,” Baekhyun answers. He walks over to the box he usually keeps his around-the-house clothes in, only to find it empty. “Still tired, though. Where-”

“They’re in the living room,” Jongdae answers. Baekhyun looks over at him, catches Jongdae unabashedly staring at his torso. Baekhyun’s stomach twists into knots. “I, uh- I organized some of your laundry.”

Baekhyun nods, turns to head out of his room. He pauses in the doorway. “You guys… you really don’t have to do all this.”

His laundry, his groceries. Making his apartment feel more like a home. Baekhyun had been okay with living out of boxes. He was here to come to work, solve this case, and then he’d be sent back to his precinct, where he’ll do another case and a case after that. People always go missing, there will always be a new case to solve. But there won’t always be a Jongdae and a Minseok there to help him.

And especially, now that Baekhyun’s almost certain that he’s found Joohyun’s location… it won’t be long before he has to pack everything back up and be on his way.

“I just can’t believe you’ve been living like this,” Minseok says, shaking his head. He flips through the instructions for assembling the bed frame. “No wonder you spend all your free time in the office instead of here.”

Baekhyun can’t help but smile. Even if he’s filled with dread, thinking about how this apartment is temporary, this team is temporary - he’ll let the two of them put his apartment together, give them the illusion that this is more permanent than it really is. Baekhyun can use a little illusion, too.

He heads back out to the living room, honestly kind of relieved to get out of eyesight and into clothes. He finds a pair of sweats and an old hoodie, slipping them on efficiently and carefully. He looks around the room, at his newly arranged furniture, at the plate of food sitting untouched on his kitchen counter, clearly left for him. Baekhyun smiles to himself, sadly, as he grabs the plate - and realizes how  _ famished  _ he is, he hasn’t eaten since lunch yesterday - and thinks to himself that he kind of hopes he’s wrong about having found Joohyun, just so he can stay here a little while longer. 

With his plate of food in hand, Baekhyun heads back down to his bedroom, where he can hear the sound of chatter and laughter. Warmth consumes him.

“No, that screw is for the leg!”

“Jongdae I’m  _ reading  _ the instructions, it says it goes here!”

Baekhyun smiles around his mouthful of food at their bickering. Jongdae’s up on his knees in his enthusiasm, dangerously swinging a screwdriver around in the air. Baekhyun doesn’t even know how Jongdae found that in all of the chaos of his apartment. 

The two of them look up when Baekhyun walks in, and Baekhyun just raises his plate in his hand as a gesture. “Thank you,” he says, sure not to look straight at Minseok to give away that he saw them earlier, “for this.”

“Anytime,” Minseok answers. “Your fridge was looking a little sad.”

“That, I’ll admit.”

Jongdae has since snatched the instructions from Minseok’s hand and is frowning aggressively at the paper. Both Minseok and Baekhyun turn to look at him. “Okay, fine,” Jongdae says. “This screw goes here.”

Minseok just snorts, grabbing the instructions back from Jongdae. Baekhyun’s face may be permanently stuck in a smile, at this point. 

“Hey, so… what’s the verdict on a search warrant?” Baekhyun asks, timid. He’d like to ignore the case for a bit, to pretend that he’s just here in domestic bliss with the two of them, but he can’t seem to tamp down his curiosity. 

Minseok nods, handing a piece over to Jongdae. “District Attorney won’t sign a search warrant on the amount of circumstantial evidence we have.”

“Damn.”

“And we can’t just go knock on their door to check it out. They’ll know we’re on their tail.”

Minseok nods. “Right, Jongdae. I talked to the Director of Investigations. Turns out there’s a vacant apartment in the building across the street from the house, a couple storeys up, facing the street.”

Baekhyun fills right back up with excitement. He can’t help it - the satisfaction of solving a case is just too addictive. “We going on surveillance, Serge?”

Jongdae’s smile widens across his face. “You’re gonna be sick of me before you know it.”

Baekhyun seriously doubts it.

“We’ve been approved to keep an eye on the place,” Minseok says. The bed frame is nearly all put together, now. “Mostly you guys, but I’ll do my best to swing by as much as possible, give you guys a break.”

“What do we need before we get the warrant?”

“Just some more substantial evidence. If we can link as many of the men from the convenience store to this address as possible. I doubt we’ll see much of Joohyun, but her men don’t seem to be too invested in hiding away.”

Baekhyun nods, takes another mouthful of food. “Let alone we got called there on a  _ weapons  _ complaint. It was unfounded but who knows if they’re armed.”

Jongdae points the screwdriver at Baekhyun. “Good point. We don’t wanna show up unprepared.”

At this point, the bed frame is all put together. Baekhyun puts his plate down on a precarious pile of boxes and helps Minseok and Jongdae lift his mattress onto the frame. They shove it into the corner, where the mattress was, and Baekhyun needs to take a moment to process that he  _ finally  _ has his bed frame together. Does this mean he now has his life together?

Unlikely.

“Alright, Byun,” Minseok says, slapping a hand down on Baekhyun’s shoulder. “We’re heading out. Get some rest, we’ll see you tomorrow.”

Jongdae nods, following Minseok out the door. “I’ll pick you up in the morning.”

Baekhyun sees them out, locks the door behind them, lets out a breath. He’s glad his body is so tired it’s about to crumble, otherwise he knows he’d be spending the whole night tossing and turning, thinking about Jongdae and Minseok, Minseok and Jongdae, and how empty his apartment is with only him to fill the space. 

\-----

“Laptop, movies, infinite amount of junk food, Red Bull-”

“Jongdae, are you packing for a stake-out or a slumber party?” Baekhyun gawks at all the shit Jongdae is spreading out over the conference room table. 

It took a few days for things to get into motion, a few days of feeling totally useless at work. There’s not much left for them to do at the office, the rest of their investigation resting on this stake-out’s shoulders. Finally, they’re meeting up on a Monday morning, in the conference room where they’re going to meet with Minseok and a few other superiors, a briefing on what this stake-out is going to entail, organizing sleep schedules.

Both Jongdae and Baekhyun are currently dressed in streetwear, wearing jeans and t-shirts, since they’re technically going undercover for the next little while. Baekhyun finds it so odd to see Jongdae without a button-down and his badge on his hip. It’s doing terrible things to Baekhyun’s sanity.

Minseok joins them not long after, in his suit, as normal. Then, the Inspector and Director of Investigations join them and the meeting commences. 

It’s dull, just sorting through a basic run-down. They all agree that Minseok can take short days here and there to come help out, give Baekhyun and Jongdae some relief. They have printed still images of all the men seen at the convenience store with Joohyun, to help them with identifying as many of them as they can observe. 

The longer the meeting runs on, the more it sinks in; Baekhyun is about to spend every waking moment in a room with Jongdae and almost as much time with Minseok. Alone. He hasn’t been able to bring up the kiss to either of them, too afraid of his own feelings and what he might hear from them, what he might  _ say  _ to  _ them.  _

It’s an indisputable fact: his partnership with the two of them is temporary. He should just leave them to be together in peace. There’s no point in dragging his own feelings into it.

But how he’s going to spend all of his time with Jongdae, alone, with nothing but each other for company… he has no idea how he’s going to remain okay. Especially since their only reprieve will be  _ Minseok  _ of all people, who is just as much of a problem for Baekhyun as Jongdae is. This, Baekhyun is sure, can only end badly.

_ Keep it together, Byun,  _ he thinks to himself.  _ This is your job.  _

The meeting ends with some handshakes, and soon Minseok, Baekhyun, and Jongdae are piling into Minseok’s car, loading it up with the blankets, food, and other things they’re going to need for the near foreseeable future. Baekhyun sits in the backseat, Jongdae in the passenger, and Baekhyun just rests his head against the window and listens to Minseok and Jongdae chat amicably as he watches the buildings and people pass by through the window. He doesn’t pay much attention to what they’re saying, he just listens to the sounds of their voices together, and thinks that he really loves the sound. 

They park in the alley behind the apartment building, out of sight. It’s a struggle, carrying all their duffel bags and stuff up the stairs to the third floor, but it isn’t long until Minseok is shoving the key into the slot and pushing the door open. It’s an older building, but it’s far from disgusting, and the apartment they’ve acquired is a studio, a bed against one wall and a kitchenette against the other. They do, however, have a perfectly good window looking across the street at the house Joohyun must have won, and the perfect kind of blinds for them to set up their camera and equipment, keep an eye on them, without anyone seeing back inside.

Baekhyun busies himself setting up the equipment while Jongdae and Minseok make the bed and put food away. 

“I hope we don’t have to be here too long,” Baekhyun betrays himself by saying.

“Aww, why?” Jongdae coos sarcastically. “Already tired of being around me?”

“Yeah that’s exactly it,” Baekhyun retorts and Minseok laughs. “Nah, it’s just my apartment is finally  _ nice.  _ Thanks to some weirdos-”

“Hey!”

“-and now I can’t even stay in it.”

“I’m hurt.”

“Wounded, even?” Minseok says.

Jongdae scoffs, but there’s a playfulness in his eyes that shows that he’s not  _ actually  _ serious. “Completely. Here I thought Baekhyunnie and I were gonna come here and get to chill out and play house. Turns out he can’t stand the thought of being with me.”

_ But, oh, is it quite the opposite.  _

“Whatever, you kids,” Minseok says with an eye-roll. “I have to get back to the office. You don’t realize how much paperwork your playing house is costing me.”

Baekhyun’s face splits into a shit eating grin. “Oh, but we ever so appreciate it, Minnie.”

“Yeah, Minnie,” Jongdae echoes in an equally sickly sweet voice.

“Christ.” Another eye-roll. “I’m out of here. Don’t drive each other too crazy while I’m gone.”

_ Too late,  _ Baekhyun thinks. 

\-----

Baekhyun marks off the back of the photograph in his hand. 

“That’s all four of them,” he says. Jongdae glances back over his shoulder at Baekhyun, where he’s seated at the window, watching the house. He raises his eyebrows, and Baekhyun waves the picture around in the air. “That’s all four of the men she was with.”

It’s been almost a week. Almost a week of Baekhyun and Jongdae either sitting together at the window or taking turns napping, showering, relaxing. It’s been taxing, having to spend every waking moment together, but not for reasons one would typically assume. Baekhyun’s not sick of Jongdae, and he’s not sick of Minseok for all the times he’s come to keep them company, take their spot at the window so they can shower and nap simultaneously instead of having to rotate watch shifts. 

Rather, it’s taxing on Baekhyun because he likes it  _ too  _ much. They’re playing house - whether they say it jokingly or not - and it’s so fucking great that it’s starting to make Baekhyun’s chest genuinely ache. He loves it, loves spending all this time with the two of them, even if it involves a lot of work talk and organizing a shower schedule. Minseok comes over and makes them food that isn’t just a bag of chips for dinner, Jongdae can chat Baekhyun’s ear off all day and never get annoying, and Baekhyun is positively heart broken to think about the fact that this case is nearly over and that will be the end of everything.

They’ve officially seen every single one of the men Joohyun is confirmed to have been with. They don’t make a huge effort to hide themselves, often running out to do errands, unafraid to stand at the window and look out. It’s Joohyun they never see, but they more or less anticipated that. They have her hidden well in there, but, honestly, with all four of them confirmed to be present, this should likely be enough to get the warrant they need to enter.

“Evening, boys,” comes Minseok’s voice as he lets himself into the apartment. Jongdae and Baekhyun both greet him distractedly, and Minseok walks over to Jongdae to give his shoulders a squeeze.

Right. There’s also that. Baekhyun is hyper aware of every interaction between the two of them, the obvious and clear affection they display without realizing. It pulls at the strings in Baekhyun’s chest, but never bitterly. It’s more of a longing than anything. And it’s tearing him to shreds.

“We have a sighting of all four of Joohyun’s… guards? For lack of a better word,” Baekhyun says, filing through the pictures. He jots a quick point down in the notebook he and Jongdae have been filling out as their log. “Think that’s enough to get the DA’s signature?”

Minseok comes and plops down on the bed next to Baekhyun. He smells like the musky cologne he always wears. Baekhyun curls his fist into the edge of the mattress. “Oh, fuck yeah,” he says softly, reaching for the log book in Baekhyun’s hand. He flips through a couple of pages with an unfairly attractive frown on his face. “Anything on firearms?”

“Not yet,” Jongdae says, muffled by a mouthful of popcorn. “Hopefully we get that soon.”

Minseok nods, reaching over Baekhyun to place the log book on the bedside table. “You look tired, Byun.”

“I am.”

“Me, too!” Jongdae pipes in. “Neither of us have slept in a bit, we’ve both been too stubborn to allow each other to take the first watch in a couple days.”

Minseok gapes at Jongdae, then turns his head to frown at Baekhyun, too. Baekhyun can only shrug.

“That’s it,” Minseok says, standing up from his seat at the edge of the bed. “Both of you, bed. I’ll keep watch for a little while.” He stands over Jongdae, nudging at his shoulders until Jongdae gets out of the fold-out chair situated in front of the window. “You two can nap for a couple hours, I don’t mind.”

“You sure?” Jongdae says, climbing out of his seat and grabbing his bag of popcorn. “You won’t get too lonely?”

Minseok just rolls his eyes. Then, in an excruciatingly soft voice, says, “Just get some sleep, yeah?”

Jongdae’s eyes soften. “Yeah, okay.”

Baekhyun, however, isn’t sure what to make of all this. It’s been nearly a week and he and Jongdae have yet to… share the bed, be too close to one another. They need to  _ take turns  _ at everything. They haven’t been much closer than a couple feet apart this entire time. He looks down at the rustled sheets on the bed and tries to cool his heartbeat, school his expression. Whatever. A nap is a nap.

He climbs into bed, Jongdae climbing in next to him a moment later. His body sings with the comfort the mattress beneath him brings, but his mind is still racing too much for him to fall into the slumber he so craves. 

No, he’s too busy thinking about all the subtle glances and lingering touches between Minseok and Jongdae, and so horrifically wishing he could have that, too. 

“Hey,” Jongdae says, after a bit. Baekhyun looks up from where he had been staring at a lump in the blankets and regrets it, with Jongdae’s face so close and so soft. It takes all of his will-power not to reach out and hold him. Feel him. “Something on your mind?”

Baekhyun just stares at Jongdae for a long moment, refusing to break their met gaze. He’s stubborn like that, incapable of breaking his facade. Baekhyun knows Minseok is listening, he’s only a few feet away from them, and Baekhyun has too many feelings to share, too many thoughts to spill, and he thinks it would all be too overwhelming for Minseok and Jongdae to carry in their hands. 

But, at this point, fuck it. This case has practically solved itself. It’s not like he’s going to have to deal with the consequences for too long. 

“I- I know you guys…” he starts, but he doesn’t know how to finish. He allows his gaze to fall, to look at the sheets between himself and Jongdae. He can allow himself one loss in this game. “I saw you two. In my kitchen that one day.”

He looks up and meets Jongdae’s gaze. There’s surprise bleeding from his eyes, some confusion. Baekhyun doesn’t bother to glance at Minseok. He knows Minseok can’t look away from the window, anyway. 

“Yeah, that’s-” Jongdae pauses to clear his throat. “It’s pretty new.”

Baekhyun can only nod, a lump forming itself in his throat.

“Does it bother you?” 

Baekhyun’s eyes widen. “No, no. Not-” he shakes his head, braces himself for what’s about to come, “I mean, it does. Just not in the way… you think.”

A frown. Baekhyun doesn’t know how to read Jongdae’s expression. “It bothers you but not in the way I think? What do I think?”

The sun is setting, through the blinds. The apartment has been filled with a warm, orange glow, and Jongdae has never looked so stunning, even with the horizontal shadow of the blinds projected across his perfect bone structure. Baekhyun  _ longs.  _ He  _ yearns.  _ He can’t believe how obtuse Jongdae is being.

Baekhyun explains, “I have no issue with the two of you being together. It bothers me… in a different way.”

He can’t believe he’s saying these things. He doesn’t  _ do this _ kind of thing. He doesn’t express his feelings, especially when his work is on the line, especially when it can only end in heartbreak no matter what. His ribs tighten, constricting around his lungs and his heart. Baekhyun doesn’t know what’s become of him. And it’s all these boys’ fault.

“Jealousy?” Jongdae asks with a frown, looking past Baekhyun, down at where Minseok is seated at the window. “Which one of us?”

Baekhyun hesitates. He blinks a few times as he processes this whole situation, a place he never thought he would have to be. He almost wishes he could have kept his mouth shut, pretended everything was normal, so that he can pack up and go back to Nowon and pretend this never happened - pretend he hadn’t been falling so capriciously fast for his partner and his sergeant.

He doesn’t know what force pushes him to say, “Not one,” but it escapes his lips and there’s no sucking it back in, no matter how much he wishes. 

Jongdae’s eyes widen, and Baekhyun prays for lightning to strike him or the earth to swallow him up. But then, Jongdae breaks into a peel of delighted laughter, and looks at Minseok with what can only be a shared expression, the two of them communicating silently for a moment. Baekhyun even turns his head to look over at Minseok, to see his own amusement in his expression as he smiles back at Jongdae before turning back to his post. The confusion eats at Baekhyun like a parasite. 

“Baekhyun, I-” Jongdae starts before pausing, causing Baekhyun to look back at him, watch the sunset reflected in his beautiful face. “This is new. This thing between Minseok and I. We’ve known each other for years, sure, and it’s been a long time coming but…” he trails off, unable to finish his sentence.

Luckily, Minseok picks it up. “But there was a certain something - some _ one  _ \- that triggered it all. Made us realize we were being so dense. Cowards.”

Jongdae places a finger along Baekhyun’s jaw, turning his head back to face him. All of the air escapes from Baekhyun’s lungs, leaving him drowning in thin air. 

“Baekhyun,” Jongdae says, voice gentle, melodic, a tone Baeekhyun has only heard in his dreams, “it was our feelings for  _ you  _ that made us finally admit to what was right in front of us.”

Baekhyun can feel his mouth flapping like a fish out of water. He doesn’t mind, though, not when it causes the corners of Jongdae’s eyes to crinkle so cutely. “Me?”

“Of course, you,” Minseok says from his spot. “All this time I thought detectives were supposed to be  _ observant.” _

“Oh, shut up, Minseok,” Jongdae says, still not looking away from Baekhyun’s face. His finger on his jaw lingers, too, and Baekhyun prays Jongdae will make it his whole hand. “Not like we were the most observant with each other, either.”

“Fair enough.”

“I’m so confused,” Baekhyun breathes. It makes Jongdae laugh, and he’s close enough that Baekhyun can feel the breath fan over his cheeks, his lips.

“Typical,” Jongdae says, amusement in his sing-song voice. “Would it ease your confusion if I kissed you?”

Baekhyun, genuinely, does not have an answer. “I-”

“Just kiss him,” Minseok says, like the sergeant he is. “And then both of you come over here so I can get a kiss, too.”

The laugh Jongdae lets out, Baekhyun can feel against his lips, drawn closer and closer to Jongdae by the moment. His heart races, his gut twists, and he squeezes his eyes shut because  _ it’s happening.  _ This thing that Baekhyun doesn’t do - honest emotion - is happening. And he couldn’t ask for anything better.

His kiss with Jongdae is chaste and sweet. He can feel it, the curvature of Jongdae’s curly mouth. It’s perfect, just perfect, and Jongdae’s hum against his lips is sweet and tender, makes Baekhyun’s toes curl in the sheets. 

There’s still something missing, though.

“Ahem,” Minseok interrupts. “Are you two coming over here or what?”

Jongdae and Baekhyun break apart with a shared giggle, exchanging ecstatic glances as they slide out from under the covers. Baekhyun can’t stop it, the excited bounce in his step as he pads on over to Minseok and allows himself to be pulled into his lap. 

“Keep an eye out,” Minseok mutters to Jongdae, before he leans forward and captures Baekhyun’s lips in his own without even a breath of hesitation. It pulls a quiet moan from Baekhyun’s chest, and Minseok’s hand on his hip tightens its grip ever so slightly.

Baekhyun doesn’t want it to end, wants and wants and  _ wants.  _ But then Minseok is pulling away and tilting his head up so Jongdae can lean down and meet him halfway in a glorious, gorgeous kiss. And Baekhyun,  _ oh Baekhyun,  _ thinks he can sit here in Minseok’s lap and watch this forever. As long as time will allow him.

Which is, unfortunately, not very long. 

“Okay, okay,” Minseok says as he pulls away from Jongdae’s eager lips. He nudges at Baekhyun’s hips, pushing him off his lap. “Now’s not the time for distractions. Get to sleep.”

Jongdae grabs Baekhyun by the waistband of his sweats, and Baekhyun’s gut twists in an entirely new way. “But what if we don’t  _ want  _ to sleep?” Jongdae coos.

“Nuh-uh, not now,” Minseok says firmly. Baekhyun is absolutely flustered at the shamelessness with which Jongdae and Minseok refer to the elephant in the room - that being sex, of course. “If you guys start lord knows I wouldn’t have it in me to stop myself and we can’t leave this window unattended.  _ Sleep,  _ or else you’re both fired.”

“That seems like an unfair use of power,” Baekhyun can’t help but counter, even though he’s already climbing under the covers, only connected to Jongdae by their intertwined hands. His entire soul is soaring, he can’t believe how happy he is.

_ “Sleep,”  _ Minseok reiterates.

And Baekhyun does. With a fluttering in his stomach and a chest filled with hot air; a smile on his face and a choir of joy singing proudly between his ears, he sleeps.

Until he’s awoken by a nudge at his shoulders, soft murmuring next to him.

“Get up. Baek, Dae, get up.”

Baekhyun blinks his eyes open, just as Jongdae is groaning at the intrusion. Baekhyun is inclined to agree. His dreams were oh so sweet, but then again they included the very people he’s currently with. He figures so long as he’s in a room with the two of them, he hasn’t much room for complaint.

“Get up,” Minseok says again. “I think something good’s about to happen.”

Blearily, Baekhyun pushes the covers down and follows Minseok back to the window. He blinks the sleep from his eyes, grinds his knuckles into his eyelids in an attempt to get them to open, to observe. He notices that Jongdae is in the exact same state.

Through the blinds, Baekhyun can see a small group of what look like teenagers walking down the street, getting closer and closer to where Joohyun’s hideaway is. They’re fooling around, tossing pebbles at the houses as they go. Just a bunch of troublemakers, nothing to cause real damage. Baekhyun frowns as he watches.

“What time is it?” he asks.

Minseok answers, “Nearly midnight.”

They’ve been asleep for much longer than Baekhyun had hoped. He feels bad, leaving Minseok to keep watch all this time. No point in dwelling on that, though, not when the group of kids are getting nearer and nearer to the building of interest. Baekhyun is fully invested, ready to see what reaction they might get. Surely, the house across the street is keeping watch just as they are, and someone is bound to be awake at this time.

Even from the third floor, through walls and windows, Baekhyun can hear the laughter from the teenagers down below. They kick at the rocks at their feet, push each other around, and one kid even tosses a pebble at the house Joohyun’s staying in, just as he had to every house that came before it.

The teenagers move along, to the next house and the one after that, before any reaction comes from the house across the street. It startles Baekhyun, when someone draws back the curtain with force, yellow light from inside the window bleeding out onto the front lawn.

With wide, anticipating eyes, Baekhyun watches the man at the window as he looks out at the street with a frown on his face, a hand at the waistband of his jeans. 

The waistband, where there’s something hard and black tucked away, ready to be pulled out for use - for destruction.

“Okay,” Jongdae says, breathless. They did it. They  _ did it.  _ “So they have firearms.”

That’s everything. It’s everything they need to apply for this warrant and to break down this door. They’re  _ done  _ and they know it, all three of them know it. Baekhyun can’t stop the delighted laughter from bubbling up and out from his chest. 

His case is so almost closed he can taste it. His feelings for Minseok and Jongdae are reciprocated. He doesn’t give a  _ fuck  _ if there’s only a matter of time before he has to pack his bags and go - he’s so happy he could choke on it.

With that thought, he lets himself collapse in Minseok’s lap, wrapping his arms tightly around Minseok’s shoulders and pressing his wide, incurable smile against Minseok’s. They smile against each other until they  _ really  _ want to kiss, and when they do the kiss is astounding, stunning. Minseok holds him by the waist so tightly, his lips the perfect balance of soft and firm as he manipulates Baekhyun’s mouth into doing what he wants. It’s slow, delicious, and Baekhyun feels like his heart might physically burst.

“Wow,” Jongdae says from above them, “way to leave me out of it.”

Baekhyun pulls back from Minseok’s mouth, takes a brief moment to admire the redness of Minseok’s lips, the heaviness of his eyelashes. Baekhyun reaches up, fists Jongdae’s shirt in his hand and tugs.

“Well get down here, then.”

Jongdae leans down, over Minseok’s shoulder, and kisses Baekhyun with all the enthusiasm Minseok had just left off with. There’s heat stirring in Baekhyun’s gut, all the way to his fingers and his toes, and he can’t fight the moan that escapes him when Jongdae licks past his teeth.

There’s a mouth on his neck - Minseok - and it’s hot and wet and hungry against Baekhyun’s skin. It draws shivers up his spine, as Minseok mouths away at his flesh like he’s starved for it, Jongdae kissing him with the enthusiasm of a thousand men. He’s goo. Baekhyun has melted into goo in Minseok’s lap. He’s completely useless except to sit there and let them kiss him, incapable of anything more.

“We should-” Minseok’s lips don’t leave Baekhyun’s pulse point as he speaks, his lips brushing against the skin, his voice vibrating in the most intoxicating way, “we should… bed.”

Jongdae must agree, because he pulls back in a second. Baekhyun can’t even be embarrassed about the displeased noise he makes.

But, he still lets Minseok push him off his lap and onto his feet. He still lets Jongdae take his hand and guide him back to the bed, Minseok trailing closely behind. Baekhyun’s heart is running a marathon, he’s nervous, sure, but it’s not as if he’s going to pass up this opportunity. It might be the only chance he’ll get to have the two of them like this - at least before he has to leave. 

They still have so much to do. They have to file the paperwork and put together a squad from Tactical and organize a plan of action, but…

Tomorrow’s problem.

“Is this really happening?” Baekhyun whispers, crawling up the mattress to where Jongdae is seated up against the headboard.

Jongdae grabs Baekhyun by the waist, tugging him in tightly against him. “You bet it is.”

Baekhyun allows himself to be kissed a moment longer. He loses himself in it, the taste of Jongdae’s mouth, the feeling of his hands on his waist. A new pair of hands find their way under his shirt, hot skin exploring hot skin. Baekhyun sighs, detaching himself from Jongdae’s mouth to tilt his head to the side, eyes still closed and mouth still open, blindly allowing Minseok to kneel over him and kiss him with fervour, with intent.

When Jongdae whines, Minseok complies, turning his attention to Jongdae’s mouth instead. Baekhyun is so close to them, can hear their heartbeats and every stuttered breath inside their chests. He watches them kiss, so gorgeous and fluid in every way, and when Baekhyun’s hips grind down against Jongdae’s, it’s entirely involuntary.

_ “Fuck,”  _ Jongdae breathes as he tilts his head back. He grinds back, and baekhyun shatters. “Do we-  _ ah  _ are we even prepared?”

That causes all three of them to halt in their tracks, blinking at each other. Baekhyun certainly hadn’t brought anything with him. Never in his wildest dreams did he think this week would end like this. 

“I didn’t bring anything,” Minseok says. Jongdae shoots him a glare. “Well don’t look at me like  _ that,  _ as if I expected this to be happening!”

“So, we don’t have any protection. Or lube.”

“That’s fine,” Baekhyun says with a shrug, and both Minseok and Jongdae turn their heads to look at him. Baekhyun smiles at each of them in turn, leaning in to leave saccharine pecks on their lips. “What do you guys say to some enthusiastic frotting and messy handjobs?”

Jongdae laughs, far too loud for the atmosphere of the room, the tiny bubble they’ve built around themselves. “I’m in,” he says, his words manipulated by the curly smile on his lips. 

Minseok shakes his head exasperatedly, but concedes with a, “You’re both idiots,” before leaning in to press his lips against Baekhyun’s, and then Jongdae’s, and Baekhyun’s again.

It’s a flurry, after that. It’s a complicated knot, the three of them tangled up, elbows and knees in all the wrong places as they work to strip themselves of their shirts, their pants, unable to disconnect long enough to make it simpler for them. Stubborn, they are, all three of them incapable of putting pause to their kissing for longer than a single breath. 

But it’s worth it, when he’s finally bare and the two of them are, too. He takes a moment, a long, reverent moment, to admire them as they lay side-by-side on the bed, flushed down to their sternums and panting with impatience just for him and for each other, and Baekhyun can’t believe his life.

“I can’t believe my life.”

Minseok chuckles at that, his right hand raising to run along Baekhyun’s side, from the swell of his ass, to the dip of his waist, to the center of his back. His left hand inches along Jongdae’s hipbone, before finding home around the base of Jongdae’s cock, and when Jongdae moans, Baekhyun does too, as if he can  _ feel it.  _

He dips down, latches his mouth onto the juncture of Jongdae’s neck and shoulder. He feels the moan that follows, laves his tongue along Jongdae’s skin, drinks in all his pleasure, and allows the hand that isn’t supporting his weight drift over to Minseok’s hip, tugging him in close against their sides.

“Baek,” Minseok breathes, using a hand to adjust Baekhyun’s hips, draw them closer against Jongdae’s. A shock of pleasure races through him as Minseok readjusts, takes both Jongdae and Baekhyun into his fist at once and strokes.

“Oh,  _ god,”  _ Baekhyun groans against Jongdae’s skin, and Jongdae’s responding moan tells him he agrees. “Fuck, Minseok-”

“Good?”

Baekhyun grinds his hips, chasing the friction. “Yeah,” he breathes. He lifts his head, leaning over until his mouth is inches away from Minseok’s. “Yeah.”

Minseok kisses him, assured and solid. A groan from Minseok’s mouth sends vibrations from Baekhyun’s teeth to his core, and he pulls away long enough to see that Jongdae has wrapped his fist around Minseok’s cock, as well, matching the agonizing pace Minseok has set. 

They writhe together. It’s a bundle of hot skin and hotter mouths, and Baekhyun is losing track of where one body ends and the other begins, and the one after that. The blank walls of the apartment bounce every noise back to them, every gasp, every sigh, every pleased moan. Baekhyun feels  _ good,  _ not just where he’s being touched, hands on him everywhere, his ass, his waist, his cock - but  _ everywhere.  _ His chest, his toes, his lips that can’t stop curling up into smiles.

Jongdae talks. Jongdae is endless chatter of praises and pleading. A constant string of  _ god that feels so good, fuck, yes, just like that, right there, oh my god.  _ Minseok only opens his mouth to ask and to demand, to set the tone and to rearrange them every now and again.

And Baekhyun. Baekhyun can only  _ feel,  _ his responses automatic and instinctive. He lets Minseok nudge at his hips until he’s just where he wants him, he lets Jongdae speak gospel straight into his mouth. He absorbs it all like a sponge, allows it all to fill him up, making him expand until he’s ready to implode.

He’s close, can see the edge approaching at a shocking pace. He can’t tell if the two of them are paying special attention to him but it  _ feels  _ like they are, because it’s all so much to take in at once. Four hands, two mouths, two warm bodies pressed against him. He’s bubbling over and overwhelmed to the point of dumbness. Just a vessel for Jongdae and Minseok to draw pleasure out of until there’s nothing left of him.

“I’m-  _ fuck,”  _ Baekhyun breathes into Minseok’s mouth. His skin tingles where Jongdae’s sucking a bruise into his shoulder.

“Close, baby?” Minseok murmurs and  _ fuck  _ the sound of his voice, the way he talks to him, it’s so decadent Baekhyun could come from the sound alone.

The pathetic sound he makes must be interpreted as a  _ yes,  _ because in that moment, Minseok’s hand picks up its pace, Jongdae thrusts his hips up with newfound enthusiasm, and the both of their mouths positively  _ devour him,  _ all at once. He bursts, in no time at all, all the tension within him releasing with a long sigh. It’s sticky between the three of their bodies now, but no one seems to mind.

And Baekhyun is breathless, pliant. He can’t do much more than recover, and watch as Jongdae and Minseok migrate from showering Baekhyun in afterglow affection to focussing on each other’s release. They work beautifully together, matching each other’s pace, breathing doctrine past one another’s lips.

Jongdae reaches the peak first, and Baekhyun is fascinated by the way his body tenses up so beautifully, he can’t help but reach out and feel, only for Jongdae to melt into his palms. And when Minseok follows shortly after with a moan so filthy Baekhyun can  _ taste  _ it, Baekhyun needs to take a moment to recalibrate, to ground himself.

He can’t believe, even if just for a fleeting moment, he has  _ all this.  _

“Well,” Jongdae pants out, starfished across the bedding. Baekhyun snorts, kneeling in the middle of the bed, one hand on Jongdae’s knee, the other on Minseok’s thigh. “That was… fun.”

“Yeah, that’s certainly a word,” Baekhyun counters.

“An adjective.”

“Oh, look at you, smarty-pants.”

Minseok groans, “You two are insufferable.”

“Sounds like a you problem,” Jongdae retorts. He sits up with a groan. “Ughhh, we need showers.”

Baekhyun grins. “I was about to get all flirty and suggest saving water by sharing the shower but between three people that makes things difficult.”

“A lot of things get more complicated between three people,” Minseok says. He pauses, blinks. “Though it doesn’t really feel like it.”

Baekhyun’s heart stutters at the softness in Minseok’s voice, his words. He bites his lip to tame his smile, says, “Yeah it doesn’t feel like it to me either.” Jongdae and Minseok both turn their soft gazes toward him, warm in every conceivable way. “Realizing my feelings for both of you… it didn’t feel wrong.”

“Just surprising,” Jongdae adds.

Baekhyun smiles. “Yeah.”

There’s a moment where the three of them just lay there, happy as can be despite their sweat and come sticky bodies. But with these two on either side of him… Baekhyun has no place he’d rather be.

“I call dibs on the shower first!” Jongdae shouts, leaping up off the bed and scampering buck-ass nude to the bathroom. Baekhyun just watches him go with a smile on his face, happy to just lay here a little longer.

Minseok seizes the opportunity, tossing an arm over Baekhyun’s torso and cuddling in close. He buries his nose into the hair behind Baekhyun’s ear and breathes in, sprouting goosebumps all over Baekhyun’s body. 

“So,” Minseok whispers, his breath warm against Baekhyun’s neck.

“So.”

“There’s a storm cloud over your head,” Minseok says.

Baekhyun blinks. “I’m happy.” So,  _ so  _ happy.

“I know what’s plaguing you,” Minseok says. He tightens his grip around Baekhyun, pulls him in tighter. He is so warm.  _ So warm.  _ Baekhyun doesn’t know how he’s going to live without it. “But we can’t delay the inevitable.”

“I know,” Baekhyun says, frowns. He plays with Minseok’s fingers in his own, feels every knob and callous. “I just wish we could have more time.”

“Just because you’ll be on the other side of the city doesn’t mean we can’t make this work.”

“I know that,” Baekhyun says with a smile. He tilts his head to the side, bumps Minseok’s nose with his own and closes his eyes, drinks in the feeling. “I’ll just miss working with you guys.”

“I think I can safely speak for Jongdae,” Minseok whispers, “when I say we feel the same way.”

Baekhyun hums. “For now,” he says, “just kiss me and forget about it.”

Minseok complies.

\-----

When Baekhyun wakes up on a Wednesday morning, everything in his apartment is in the place it’s supposed to be. Save for a few lingering boxes of unpacked items, his suits are hanging in the closet, his ties are in his drawer, and it takes him little to no time at all to get himself organized and get ready for the day. He puts on his trusty red tie, perfectly pressed, takes his time to tie his shoes before securing his gun and his badge on his hip and heading out the door.

Today, they’re going to raid that little house from across the street. Today, hopefully, they’re going to finally find Bae Joohyun.

It’s sad to think about. This case is coming to an end, provided Joohyun is actually inside, and she’ll likely be held for questioning in order to help Taeyeon take down the gambling ring happening below the city. Baekhyun won’t be needed anymore, not here at least. He’ll be sent back to his apartment back in Nowon, and Seocho will no longer have use for him. 

He’ll no longer walk into CID in the morning, like he does today, to pour himself a cup of coffee and chat with the other detectives he’s come to know and love. He’ll no longer be shuffling into Minseok’s office late every morning, right by Jongdae’s side. 

“Good morning, boys,” Minseok says as Jongdae and Baekhyun enter his office. Jongdae clicks the door shut behind them, and Minseok seizes the opportunity to step up to them and give each of them a quick kiss on the lips. Baekhyun feels his cheeks burn pink. He doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to it.

“Today’s the day,” Jongdae says. Baekhyun heaves a sigh, nervous,  _ ecstatic.  _ “What time we supposed to be in the line-up room?”

It took a few days, organizing the squad of Tactical Officers they’ll be bringing along, now that it’s confirmed they have firearms. Chanyeol will be there, along with Jongin and Shownu from the gym that one time, and a few others Baekhyun already forgets the names of. They have an entire squad ready to help them out, to get Joohyun out of there safely, to finish this thing once and for all. 

It’s a lot to take in.

“Thirty minutes,” Minseok says, glancing at his watch. He leans back against the edge of his desk. “Enough time for us to enjoy our coffee and catch up.”

“You say that as if we weren’t all at your place last night,” Baekhyun teases. Minseok just rolls his eyes.

“Don’t make things any more difficult for me,” he says as he sips his coffee. “My life is hard enough, dating the both of you.”

Baekhyun will never tire of those words. No matter how many times they’ve kissed, slept together, spent time at each other’s apartment already over the past few days - Baekhyun still can’t wrap his head around the fact that he’s  _ dating  _ them. They’re his boyfriends. Plural. 

It’s fucking amazing.

They do as Minseok says, despite the teasing. They drink their coffees and they chat for a bit. They laugh at each other’s jokes - save for Minseok, he earns a groan every time - and enjoy these few minutes they have to just relax and enjoy each other’s company before they have the busiest day of work they’ve had in probably forever. Before they have to barricade and negotiate and exhaust themselves trying to just get  _ one girl  _ to step out from hiding.

Up in the line-up room, with their team of Officers ready to join, Minseok goes over basic plans, demands the attention of the room as he speaks authoritatively and professionally. Baekhyun has never been more attracted to him. 

Baekhyun gets fitted into a bullet-proof vest, and the Armour cleans and loads his gun. It’s been a long time since Baekhyun has had to be out in the field like this, when stakes are high, and he’s so full of nervous energy he can’t stop shaking. 

Tensions are high in the precinct. Everyone is hyping themselves up for today. No matter how much planning goes into something like this, you always have to be prepared for the unexpected. It requires a lot of focus, to go out into a scene. Baekhyun finds himself hopping up and down on his toes quite a bit.

“Are you ready?” Jongdae asks, opening the driver’s side door to their assigned cruiser.

Baekhyun shakes his head, sliding into the passenger seat. “Ready as I’ll ever be… but still afraid to-  _ do this,  _ you know?”

“Baekhyun,” Jongdae says, “I mean this with the utmost care… just think about all the celebratory sex we’ll get to have afterward.”

“I hate you.”

Jongdae’s smile is wide, shit-eating, and absolutely perfect. “No you don’t.”

If Jongdae and Baekhyun hold hands over the gearshift the entire ride, no one is to know.

It all goes perfectly as planned, upon arrival. Cruisers barricade around the house with their lights flashing, a couple extra units waiting at nearby intersections to watch out for any runners. They move into action quickly, Tac immediately getting into position, weapons at the ready in case of open fire, ducked behind the cruisers, using the car as leverage to hold their weapons steady. Baekhyun, Jongdae, and Minseok are significantly less protected, walking out into the center of the barricade in their slacks and bulletproof vests. 

Minseok turns on his megaphone. “This is the Seoul Police Department,” he says, magnified and staticky through the speaker. “We have reasonable grounds to believe a Bae Joohyun is currently inside the residence.”

Baekhyun is sweltering. The weather is hot, humid, gray. He wipes the brow off his forehead. Not even a curtain has budged.

“We’ve acquired a warrant to enter the home and search for ourselves,” Minseok continues, feedback ringing in the air as he trails off. Baekhyun can feel his breath getting shorter. “But to make it easier on all of us, please surrender yourselves and your weapons!”

They wait. Baekhyun can feel the eyes of surrounding neighbours through their windows, can hear the sounds of Jongdae and Minseok’s heavy breathing next to him. He’s sweating in his vest so bad he doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to peel this dress shirt from his body. 

Nothing happens. Not even a single person at the window or door, demanding a negotiation. It’s radio silence from the little white house before them, and Baekhyun is growing impatient.

He reaches for Minseok’s megaphone. The feedback pierces the thick, humid air as he switches it on. “Joohyun, this is Detective Byun. You don’t know me but throughout my investigation I’ve come to learn a lot about you.”

He hesitates, takes a moment to breathe. He glances to his side, sees Jongdae and Minseok watching him with anticipation, urging him onward. He takes a breath.

“I think you and I can both agree that it would be a waste of resources and time to delay the inevitable like this,” Baekhyun continues. “You’re a smart girl, Joohyun. I know you realize this, too.”

There’s another long stretch of silence. There’s a small group of people that have gathered down the street to watch the spectacle. Baekhyun only has to nod in their direction for Kim Junmyeon, one of the Uniform Officers who came along for extra man power, to get the hint and stalk over in their direction to split the group up and send them on their way. 

Baekhyun heaves a sigh, ready to tell Tactical to just kick in the door, but then there’s the sound of a door creaking open, and Baekhyun whips his head around to see one of Joohyun’s men peeking his head out the side door. Baekhyun recognizes him as the one with the ugly cross tattoo on his bicep.

“We want Detective Byun!” he yells into the street. 

It takes half a second to process.

“No,” Jongdae says, firmly, as if he has any power to say so.

“It’s fine, Dae,” Baekhyun says. Jongdae doesn’t seem to sure, and Baekhyun can’t stand to look at the expression on his face. He turns to Minseok, who doesn’t look any more positive than Jongdae, but at least Minseok turns to shout back at the man at the door.

“What for?” Minseok yells, no megaphone required.

A pause. The man answers, “We want to chat with him.”

Baekhyun expected something like this to happen once he introduced himself by name - in fact it’s what he was hoping for. A chance to get inside, to talk Joohyun into this without needing to use force, destroying all opportunity to talk to Joohyun about this before lawyers and handcuffs and videotaped interviews become involved. 

He puts a hand on Jongdae’s shoulder, meets Jongdae’s eyes, then Minseok’s in turn. “If I’m not out in ten minutes, send Tac in.”

“You wanted this,” Minseok says, breathless, a hint of awe in his voice.

Baekhyun can only nod, tight-lipped, before he turns to walk to the house. 

“No gun!”

Baekhyun halts in his tracks. He ponders it, for barely a moment, before pulling his gun out of his holster, raising it in the air in the universal sign of surrender, and bending to place it on the ground.

“Baekhyun, what the  _ fuck?”  _

“It’s  _ okay,  _ Jongdae,” he hisses. Now is  _ not  _ the time for protective boyfriends. “Joohyun is harmless, you know it.”

Jongdae mutters something along the lines of  _ her men don’t seem to be.  _ Baekhyun doesn’t have the time to acknowledge him. At least he hears Minseok muttering some words of encouragement, low enough to be out of earshot for everyone except the two of them. It hurts, it really does, but Baekhyun is just going to have to leave them to it.

When he reaches the door, the guy grabs him by the front of his vest and pulls him the rest of the way inside. The house smells stale, like recycled air and old cigarettes. It feels so unlived in, yet so occupied. A place to stay, but not a home.

“Come with me.”

Baekhyun is led through winding hallways on ratty carpeted floors, deeper into the heart of the house. Baekhyun counts his steps, remembers his way out. He keeps one eye on the figure in front of him and the other on every corner they take, mapping out the layout as he goes. Until they reach a living room, tucked away from the rest of the world. 

There, on a large, plush couch, surrounded by closed, heavy curtains and a cigarette cradled between two fingers, is Bae Joohyun.

Baekhyun doesn’t even have the time to say anything. Joohyun taps the ash off the end of her cigarette and says, “How did you find me?”

Baekhyun clears his throat, standing awkwardly in the entrance of the living room, not sure what to do with his hands. “A house showed up in your bank records. This address on the gambling ring’s loss records.”

“Ah,” Joohyun says, coolly. Baekhyun just observes her, with a tightened jaw and even tighter senses. Observes how pretty she is, how hardened her expression is, how she sits in the middle of this couch like she owns the world. Baekhyun’s not so sure she doesn’t. “So you know about my bad habit.”

“Smoking?” Baekhyun quips without even thinking. He allows himself a half a second of panic.

Luckily for him, Joohyun sees the humour in it. “This is new, actually,” she says, staring at the cigarette a moment before taking a drag, the tip burning neon orange. “Was getting restless just sitting here all day.”

Baekhyun is exhaustively aware of the men in every corner of the room, watching them with trained intensity. He does his best to ignore them, ignore the racing in his heart, and focus on Joohyun, instead. Joohyun, the reason he’s here at all.

“Why won’t you come outside?” he asks.

Joohyun hums. The smoke dances off the end of her cigarette in twisting, glorious patterns as she takes another slow drag. “You obviously have proof of my involvement with an  _ illegal  _ gambling ring. Those are grounds for arrest, no?”

“So why call me in here?”

“To make a deal.” Joohyun puts out her cigarette in the ash tray, then leans back against the couch. She’s beautiful, sure, but appears a little exhausted, a little worse for wear from all this hiding. The bruises beneath her eyes speak a language that Baekhyun is fluent in.

“I don’t have the power to promise anything,” Baekhyun says. He isn’t a fan of the way Joohyun’s expression sours. “But I’m sure with legal aid a whistleblower deal can be struck up. You clearly know a lot of information that we need back at Headquarters.”

“I blow a whistle and I get killed.”

“See that’s the thing,” Baekhyun says, tilting his head to the side. “Not only will you be in our protection, but there’s another factor to help your case. You’ve clearly been the victim of some sort of… threat? Otherwise neither of us would be here.”

Joohyun just stares at Baekhyun for a long moment, a studious frown on her face as she sizes him up, plans her next move. And Baekhyun can see it, the reason why she was so successful in her extensive - albeit illegal - endeavours. She’s smart, she’s cunning, but most of all, she’s intimidating multiple times her small size.

Joohyun says, “Boys don’t like losing to girls, Detective Byun. I learned that the hard way.”

“We can help you.”

A scoff. “I’m having a hard time believing that.”

“It’s our job,” Baekhyun says. “We have entire departments dedicated to witness protection, alone.”

Joohyun tilts her chin up and away, clearly unimpressed with Baekhyun’s officer. He figures now’s as good a time as any to play dirty.

“I know Seungwan wants to help.”

Joohyun faces him in the blink of an eye, her expression darkened, yet dripping in curiosity. “What do you know about Seungwan?”

“That her heart is breaking over this,” Baekhyun says. “She was a great help in finding you, you know. You should thank her, once you get out of this.”

Joohyun looks furious, but mostly, she looks vulnerable. Baekhyun didn’t even think she was capable of such an emotion.

“Wh-”

“POLICE! GET ON THE GROUND!”

The banging of doors being kicked in and boots stomping along the carpeted floors interrupt them, and Baekhyun has to suppress his huff of annoyance. He was  _ so close  _ to getting this, but Jongdae and Minseok must have sent Tac in a little early out of their needless worry. He is  _ so  _ gonna give them shit later.

When the weapons of Joohyun’s guards are drawn, Baekhyun seizes the opportunity, their distraction, to step forward and reach for Joohyun’s wrist.

“Get down, Ms. Bae!” he shouts over all the yelling, the stomping, the safeties on guns being released.

He’s on the ground, along with Joohyun, who looks confused and angry and  _ honestly,  _ Baekhyun thinks,  _ same.  _ There's so much chaos happening in the room around and above them, people yelling at each other and aiming their guns at each other. One of Joohyun’s men even goes as far as to shoot through the ceiling above him in warning, getting tackled to the ground in the next moment.

Baekhyun meets Joohyun’s gaze, and he offers her the most placating, amicable smile he can muster up. “What do you say? Skip all this drama and move on?”

Joohyun just stares back at him, wide-eyed, for a long, strenuous minute. The chaos around them continues, expands, gets louder as time goes on. But then Joohyun is melting into a sigh and shouting, “CEASE YOUR FIRE, BOYS!” at the top of her little lungs. 

The effect it has is instantaneous, the room falling into shocked silence. Before Baekhyun can even tell her that it’s safe to do so, Joohyun sits up onto her knees. 

“Fine,” she says. She puts her wrists out in front of her. “But I’m calling my lawyer the second I get to the Station.”

Baekhyun’s heart is literally  _ singing,  _ he can hear it in his own ears. He fights the smile that threatens to split his face in two as he pulls out his handcuffs, latches them onto Joohyun’s delicate wrists and pressure tests them. “Luckily for you,” he says, once he’s sure they’re secure. “That’s protocol.”

As Baekhyun stands up to lead Joohyun out the door, he meets Chanyeol’s gaze, who’s all suited up in his gear and helmet. Joohyun’s men are all on their knees, hands behind their heads and weapons on the ground as the Tactical Unit stands over them, cuffing them one by one until everyone is secure. Chanyeol nods once at Baekhyun, and Baekhyun nods back, and then he’s using a gentle but firm grip on Joohyun’s bicep to lead her back through the halls and out of the house.

The street before them erupts into commotion the second they push through the door and into the sticky heat outside. Uniform Officers rush up to take Joohyun, guide her to the back of their cruiser to read her her Rights to Counsel and arrest cautions. She looks miserable, defeated, and it’s amusing to Baekhyun. But he doesn’t doubt that she won’t go down without a fight.

When he’s finally alone with Jongdae and Minseok, he slaps his hand against Jongdae’s chest. “I had it under control,” he spits. “Was it really necessary to send in a goddamn SWAT team?”

“Please,” Minseok says, wrapping an arm around Baekhyun’s shoulders in an attempt to placate him. “You put yourself in a dangerous place and you know it. If that were any other Officer in there, you’d have made the same call.”

Minseok is right, and Baekhyun hates it. “I still  _ had it.”  _ Baekhyun grumbles. 

Jongdae can only roll his eyes. “Well  _ sorry  _ for caring about your safety.” He opens the passenger door of their cruiser for Baekhyun to climb in. “You’re a reckless as hell cop but you’re also-” his voice quietens to a whisper “-a very special  _ boyfriend  _ to some people. So watch it next time.”

And Jongdae slams the car door shut. Baekhyun rolls down his window. 

“You love me,” he coos. Minseok just rolls his eyes with a small laugh as Jongdae just grins his troublemaking grin.

“Jury’s still out on that one.”

Baekhyun hopes it isn’t out for much longer.

\-----

Baekhyun cannot believe he has to come in for one last, sad day at this precinct. After a day like yesterday, where they solved their case and found their missing person, at the highest and proudest of their capabilities possible, Baekhyun has to show up for one more boring office day in his boring office clothes.

But, Baekhyun figures, he’ll take as many days left with Minseok and Jongdae as his partners as he can. 

“Detective Byun.”

Baekhyun spins around, sees Sooyoung waiting for him in the adjacent corridor. He smiles, steps up to greet her. She smells like a sweet floral perfume and it helps brighten Baekhyun’s sad, sad spirits a bit.

“Hey, Sooyoung,” Baekhyun says. “What’s up?”

“I’d like a moment to speak with you,” she responds, already turning on her heel for Baekhyun to follow before getting any reply. “If that’s alright.”

“Fine by me.”

Baekhyun follows the click-clack of her heels, up one floor and to the HR offices. Baekhyun recognizes more faces, this time around, than he did the last time he was on this floor, his very first day at the precinct. How fitting that he’d be here on presumably his last.

“So,” she says, once they’re comfortable in her office. She’s flipping through some papers on her desk, in search of something. “You solved your case.”

“We did,” he replies, sitting comfortably in the seat across from Sooyoung’s desk.

She must find what she’s looking for, because she spreads out a stack of papers on the desk in front of Baekhyun. She points at the first few pages.

“Your original contract you signed states that you’ll remain here until the case comes to fruition.”

Baekhyun only nods, his jaw getting uncomfortably tight. He needs no reminder of that - he’s exceptionally aware.

“But we’ve received numerous recommendations from all of your colleagues upstairs in CID that even made their way up to the Chief’s office,” Sooyoung says. Baekhyun frowns. “You’re well liked here. And a certain few detectives think you’d be an asset in this case that Detectives Kim Taeyeon and Kim Heechul have been digging up.” 

Baekhyun allows himself to openly gape at Sooyoung. He can’t possibly fathom what she’s saying to him. Is she offering him a position here? An extended contract? His mind is reeling with the possibilities.

“We’ve got a Bae Joohyun currently upstairs in a recorded interview room, refusing to speak with any Officer besides a certain Detective Byun.” Sooyoung smiles, sweetly. She gestures to the other papers on the desk in front of him. “If you’d like, Detective Byun, we’d like to offer you a semi-permanent contract at the Seocho District.”

Baekhyun’s ears are ringing, and he doesn’t know if it’s from complete shock or complete joy. “I- semi-permanent?”

Sooyoung nods. “You stay and you help Taeyeon and Heechul on their case and whatever other case you get assigned by your sergeant,” she explains. “But if another precinct has greater need for you we have the right to authorize a transf-”

“I’m in.”

Sooyoung grins, as if she expected no other answer from him. “Of course. Just sign where all the X’s are.”

And Baekhyun does, with so much enthusiasm he can barely call them signatures. He scribbles his life away, trying to tame the joy bubbling up inside him and threatening to spill over. He can’t stop thinking about it, thinking about more time across the office from Jongdae, across the hall from Minseok. More time living in his cute little apartment, that’s finally begun to feel more like a home than a place to stay.

More time here, where he belongs, where he can do his very best work and then go home to bed every night - or to Jongdae’s bed, or to Minseok’s. Certainly,  _ this,  _ this is where he belongs.

Sooyoung shoos him away once all the paperwork is signed, and he practically breaks into a jog in his haste to the elevators, to get upstairs to the CID office, where he knows his friends, his colleages, his fucking  _ boyfriends  _ are waiting for him, waiting to hear the news whether they know it or not. 

He swings open the doors to CID, stalks down the hall to where the fourth floor interview room is, where he knows Joohyun is sitting and waiting, if Sooyoung had been telling the truth. It’s there, outside those doors, where he finds everyone he needs. Minseok, Jongdae, Taeyeon, and Heechul, all standing around and talking in low voices, trying decide what to do with a Joohyun who won’t spill. It isn’t until Baekhyun’s standing right before them that they all finally notice his presence.

“I hear there’s someone asking for me,” Baekhyun says. “Sorry for the wait, I was just in a meeting with HR.”

Minseok reads the elated expression on Baekhyun’s face, his tone of voice, before the rest of them. His eyes glimmer in the most beautiful way, and Baekhyun almost wishes they weren’t at work right now, or else he would kiss the  _ hell  _ out of him. Out of Jongdae, too. He’s just that freaking happy.

“You’re available to take the interview?” Taeyeon asks, incredulous.

Baekhyun beams. He beams so wide he  _ knows  _ it’s blinding with a wattage no eyes can physically handle. “Looks like you guys are stuck with me for the foreseeable future.”

He sees Jongdae nearly leap forward into Baekhyun’s arms at that, but he restrains himself. It’s cute, and Baekhyun pats his shoulder as he walks toward the interview room, not at all prepared to take this statement but still totally sure that he’s the only one capable of getting any information out of Joohyun to further this case.

Just before he opens the door, he says, “you guys are gonna be sick of me pretty soon.”

And Baekhyun doesn’t miss the way Jongdae exchanges a look with Minseok, and in a quiet, content voice, says, “Somehow, I seriously doubt that.”

And Baekhyun knows he means it. 


End file.
